


Whispering Sands

by SwedishTaco



Series: Assassins, Gods, and Dragon's Blood [1]
Category: Book of Life (2014)
Genre: Abduction, Action/Adventure, Angst, Blood, Boys Are Dumb, Hallucinations, Major character death - Freeform, Nightmares, Post-Canon, Romance, Supernatural - Freeform, Torture, Violence, but Xibalba is only there for a moment, but it's heading that direction, its not all bad, joaquin don't know what he wants, theres humor too, tres leches if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:52:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 81,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwedishTaco/pseuds/SwedishTaco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>EDIT: Joaquin wants to leave, Manolo and Maria want him to stay, a new bandit lord wants his head on a platter, and nobody thinks communication is necessary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Ecstasy of Gold

He opened his eye and stared at the ceiling, the last remnants of the nightmare rolling off him. Briefly closing his eye with a sigh, he couldn’t help but still see the images dancing behind his lids; even now they were just as clear and crisp as ever. _Best not to dwell too long on it…_ he thought, forcing himself to get out of bed despite the protest from his body. It had been over a week and he was _still_ sore. It was a feeling he had long since forgotten, and wasn’t overly happy to become reacquainted with again. He grumbled at the aching in his legs, his shins mottled with new and fading bruises from bumping and tripping over things. The local doctor said that it was common for people with his injury…but that didn’t make it any better.

Joaquín walked around his room readying himself for the day, avoiding the mirror in the room for as long as he could. Every morning since the defeat of Chakal it had become his routine. Wake up from yet another nightmare from either that day or from his past -  not that was an uncommon occurrence…the soldier had made his peace that it was just going to be a thing for him, as unpleasant as it was – roll out of bed, dress, groom meticulously (especially the mustache), flush his eye, put on the eye patch, then start on his morning rounds. If he was lucky, he’d make it through the whole town without being _spotted_.

The soldier didn’t want to seem like he was avoiding his friends…but he was. Joaquín was happy for María and Manolo, he really was, but…he also felt like he shouldn’t be around them. Them being newlyweds and all…and _god_ , every time they saw him, they asked how he was doing, and if his eye was still bothering him. Manolo _died_. He died and then came back to life within a day, and the guitarist asked about his well-being. Him! _The selfless bastard_ …Joaquín loved the man like a brother, but Manolo shouldn’t worry so much about him. He…shouldn’t be the one focused on.

With another sigh, he finally came face to face with the mirror. Considering the significant lack of sleep as of late, he didn’t look too bad. _Then again, even without sleep he was devilishly handsome_. He put on his best ‘I am the coolest dude you are ever gonna see’ smile and decided that it was good enough to fool just about everyone in town. Joaquín learned very early on that if you exude enough confidence and bravado, people will believe that it’s real; sometimes he even tricked himself into believing it. _Fake it till ya make it_ …He brushed over the spot where his medal used to hang, and his heart clinched. He put both his best friend’s lives in danger because of a hunk of metal. Sure, it was magically charged, but still.

He shook his head and rid the thought from his mind. _Don’t think about it_. Without another thought, the soldier grabbed his eye patch and slid it into place. Only looking again briefly into the mirror to make sure the patch was perfectly in place, he headed out to make his rounds. Maybe a little bit later he could to go visit the barracks for a while…María didn’t like hanging around the other soldiers, and he didn’t blame her one bit, but that also made it that she wouldn’t go near it less she had to.

It was a perfect place to hide.

* * *

He passed very few people as he made his way through the town, and those he did pass weren’t interested in conversation. Joaquín meandered the streets he grew up with, the buildings slowly revealing themselves to him through the fog that had settled sometime before dawn. It was thicker than normal, having rained last night, but he didn’t mind. If anything it helped ease his mind, having always loved the smell of earth after a storm.

It didn’t take very long before he started seeing more people out and about. Most were probably heading to the market to either sell or buy; some might have been out for a morning walk. Joaquín was left alone, though he’d get a greeting here or there from those he passed. If he was being honest, he wasn’t in the mood for conversation anyway. Staying in one place for too long made it easier for _them_ to find him, and that just wouldn’t do. The soldier was trying to give them space, but they seemed hell bent on the exact opposite.

Joaquín probably should have been paying more attention to where he was going, his feet having a mind of their own when he was deep in thought. Without realizing it, he had managed to wander by the church. Most of the rubble had been cleared and repairs were underway. He was always amazed by how much damage had been done in the battle with Chakal…at least it was fairly localized. What he _did_ manage to miss were the two figures out in front of the church, one of which he knew. Joaquín’s attention was caught by a soft gasp and laugh.

“Joaquín!”

The first thing that ran through his mind was _shit, I can’t hide now_ , the second was _what the…?_ María was bent over backwards, supporting herself on her hands, her upside down face beaming at him. There was another person with her, their hands hovering around her waist almost like a spotter. He heard María excitedly tell the stranger to help her back up, and they easily obliged her, reaching for one of the woman’s hands and seeming to pull her up with ease.

He couldn’t help but narrow his eye at this person. Joaquín had never seen them around before; he would have remembered them for sure. They were tall; from what he could tell, they looked about his height, if a little shorter. _That_ in and of itself was practically unheard of…Joaquín was one of the tallest people around. The stranger was dressed oddly too, definitely not from around here. From what he could see of their face, most of it was covered up behind a scarf or something like it, they had dark skin, and darker eyes. Their hair was black – two braids fell in front of their shoulders, and it looked like there was a third, much longer one in the back. As they walked closer, the stranger following behind Maria, he could tell that the stranger was dressed mostly in browns, the scent of leather wafting around him. _What on earth was María doing hanging out with this strange man?_

“Joaquín! It’s good to see you!” María walked over to him and gave him a hug. Shocked by the gesture, he froze, still standing awkwardly when she stepped back. “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you in a few days.”

The soldier mentally shook himself before answering. He couldn’t stop his heart from flip-flopping in his chest from the smile she was giving him. _Pull it together, stop thinking that way_. “Oh, you know…I’ve been, uh, busy…with the uh, the whole town hero thing. Getting the town back together and running normally again. You know how that it is, and all.” Joaquín shifted his weight, attempting to look as nonchalant as possible. He really hoped he looked more the part than he felt. “So, uh…who, who’s your friend?”

María’s smile grew at that, turning and waving the stranger over. “This is K’tsal.” The stranger gave a nod in Joaquín’s direction. “She’s been traveling around, and heard about what happened here, regarding, you know…and wanted to offer her help. She also makes an excellent sparing partner!” If it was possible, María’s smile turned into a smirk, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

_She!?_ His mind was having trouble processing that fact. Here stood before him a stranger, nearly as tall as he was, _dressed in leather, and in_ pants _no less_. Never before had he seen such a thing and he was… _oh god, Maria was going to kill him_ … _crap he must have said that ‘she’ comment out loud._ The look she was giving him was clearly unhappy in an ‘have you learned nothing’ or possibly ‘I’m going to kick your butt later’ kind of way. Not wanting to face María’s wrath so early in the day, he attempted to stutter out an apology to the woman, but words were just not working for him at the moment.

He was saved by a low chuckle, K’tsal waving him off. “I can understand the confusion,” she said in a pleasantly low voice that had a slight rasp to it, her rough accent something he’d never heard before. “The scarf and my height don’t do me any favors.” She extended a hand towards Joaquín, and the soldier eyed the leather bracers that wrapped around her arm. “Greetings.” Without hesitation he went to shake her hand, but she bypassed his hand and gently grabbed the inside of his arm near his elbow. He paused a second in confusion before doing the same, and a moment later they broke away.

K’tsal observed him for a moment before her eyes crinkled like she was smirking, “That must be an interesting story.” He knit his brows in confusion and the woman tapped the side of her own eye as clarification. _Oh_ …dread filled him at the thought of even attempting to tell that story. Joaquín was near about to panic searching for _any_ excuse, and it had to have shown on his face, because K’tsal’s eyes softened before she bowed her head slightly. “Forgive me, I didn’t know it was a recent injury.”

Joaquín nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle touch to his arm, looking to see that it was María’s hand. “Are you alright?” Concern etched her features, and his chest clenched painfully at the look. She shouldn’t be worried about him. She _shouldn’t_. He didn’t _deserve it_.

He smiled at his best friend in what he thought was reassurance. “Yep! Absolutely fine! Nothing wrong here.” Joaquín easily covered his previous near freak out with a cool and calm exterior. If he acted like this long enough, maybe María would finally believe that he was alright…maybe he could even fool himself too. But the way that María was looking at him…there wasn’t a chance in hell that she was convinced. “So!” he chirped, attempting to try and change the subject, “María says that you spar? Do you fence?”

A look passed between the two women that the soldier missed, K’tsal answering him. “I don’t know anything about fencing, but I do have some swordplay knowledge.” She shrugged, “I prefer close hand-to-hand combat…”

“That’s actually what we were working on when I saw you.” María added. “K’tsal was trying to help with a move I’d seen her do.” _Ahh, that awkward looking position he’d seen them in earlier_. How could that possibly translate into a move? “Wanna show him what I’m talking about? Might be easier to show him.”

The taller woman nodded, stepping back from the two and getting into a loose fighting stance; also something Joaquín didn’t recognize. “Help me out? Open palms as targets so I don’t hurt you.”

Maria smirked, getting into her own fighting position. This, Joaquín had seen before, having fought along side María the past week. “You can’t hurt me.” It was a challenge if the soldier had ever heard one.

K’tsal merely shook her head, her eyes crinkling at the edges again. “Careful, youngling…you still have much to learn.” Joaquín, not having any clue as to what going to happen, took several steps back; he didn’t want to get anywhere near what the two were about to do. Neither of the women moved for several minutes, María was obviously sizing up her competition while K’tsal appeared calm and waiting. If Joaquín had blinked, he would have missed it: María launched herself at K’tsal sending a flurry of punches and kicks at the taller woman. Said woman dodged every attack, blocking what was necessary and weaving between everything else, but not once making a move to return blows. Then María spun around to send a powerful kick in K’tsal’s direction, and the woman dodged it by bending over backwards and planting her hands in the ground and kicking out with her legs, her heels kicking María’s open palms with lightning speed. The move caused María to stumble back several steps, K’tsal recovering by pushing off her hands and landing back on her feet.

Joaquín had just assumed that the demonstration was over, but nearly jumped when, with a bellow, K’tsal charged at María. The soldier reflexively grabbed at his sword, seeing as the look on María’s face told him she wasn’t expecting this. He had barely taken a step towards the fight when K’tsal threw an obvious punch at Maria, and Maria dodged, grabbing hold of the taller woman’s sleeves and using K’tsal’s momentum to toss her over her hip. K’tsal twisted in the air to land sprawled out on her back. María stared at the woman on the ground before a huge smile broke out on her face. Joaquín paused in his movements, not sure what to make of the scene as María started to laugh.

“I did it!” María offered out a hand to help K’tsal up, the woman grabbing hold and standing up. She was in the middle of dusting herself off when María excitedly started punching the air and hip checked the taller woman.

“Wha…what just happened?” The soldier asked, sword still half drawn and one foot in front of the other as if to move in their direction. His eyes darted between the two, confusion obvious in his features.

María only laughed, grabbing hold of K’tsal and pulling her back over to Joaquín. “K’tsal had also been helping me with throws, but until now, I hadn’t managed to get it right.” She looked up at the woman, her smile beaming. And even though it wasn’t directed at him, Joaquín felt his insides squirm. That was another reason he didn’t want to be…found. He was still in love with María, and he knew that he was going to be for a long time. He had hoped that by avoidance, he could come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t be anything more than a friend to her. By seeing her around the town, and with Manolo…he was just hurting himself. He sighed inwardly. _As soon as he got things together, he was gone.  
_

“You’re still hesitating.” K’tsal broke him out of his thoughts when she spoke, “You must be sure, and confident. Your attacker will not hesitate to take advantage of a moments indecision.” Joaquín didn’t know much about…whatever it was they had just been doing, but he knew the truth in the words. You never gave an enemy the chance to take advantage of you. That was one of the first things he learned in his own training. Strike first, and never second guess yourself.

María nodded and sighed, it looked like she was going to say something, but her eyes widened as she remembered something. “I almost forgot! I’m supposed to be meeting Manolo soon.” She hit her forehead and muttered a soft curse. She looked between him and the woman, and Joaquín could _see_ her mind working. A smile graced her features before she spoke again, “Hey! Why don’t you two come with me? I can show K’tsal the town on the way, and I’m sure Manolo would be happy to see you, Joaquín.” The soldier did not like that idea one bit, and started to fumble over excuses as to why he couldn’t go with her. The woman also made a smooth excuse that she wouldn’t want to bother anyone, and that she could wander the town on her own. María just laughed softly at the two of them, “No, it’s no bother at all! C’mon, it’ll be fun.” She grabbed the two of them by their sleeves and dragged them behind her.

Joaquín had never been able to say ‘no’ to María in his life, now was no exception. He resigned himself to follow her easily. K’tsal stumbled along, apparently not used to being lead around in such a way. After a few minutes, María released them, satisfied that they would continue to follow her. The woman next to him huffed out a sigh, but continued to walk with them. They walked in silence, María only speaking to point out buildings and structures for K’tsal. The silence was _killing him_. Joaquín had never done will with silence, normally he always had a story to fill the void or at least a way to kill the oppressive quiet. But he didn’t know this strange woman, things that he could get away with with María, or any of the girls in the town he doubted he could with her.

So he decided to be a gentleman and ask, if only to chase away the silence. “So…uh, you’re not from around here?” _Great job, you don’t sound like an idiot at all._

The woman gave him a sideways look, but he couldn’t tell if it was in amusement or aggravation. “Aye.” She was quiet for a long time, and Joaquín thought that he’d managed to kill the conversation. He was almost startled when she spoke again. “I’ve come from across the sea to explore this land.”

That was something for him to go on at least. “Where?” His eye darted to María, where he could see she had turned her head to listen in on the conversation.

“Ireland.” Joaquín blinked at the woman. Ireland? She didn’t look from the area, and he told her as much. It was only after the statement left his mouth that he thought he had made a terrible mistake and offended her. Instead, her eyes look thoughtful for a moment before she answered him. “No, I’m not. I was born and raised in the deserts. This place,” she gestured around her, “This area…it reminds me of home. The land is very beautiful here.”

María turned her head a little bit more, entering into the conversation. “Do you have family in Ireland?”

K’tsal shook her head, “No. All my family is back in the land I was raised.”

Joaquín’s brows knit, “Then why do you live there? Sounds like you prefer somewhere like here.”

K’tsal didn’t even get a chance to speak; María beat her to the punch. “Easy, she has someone special there.” The soldier looked at María like she had two heads. _There was no way she could possibly_ -

“Your powers of observation are beyond compare, _tal nae_.” K’tsal chuckled. “Absolutely nothing gets past you, does it?” Her only answer was an impish grin from María. “And before you ask, no, I’m not going to tell you about them. I think it’ll be more fun to see if you can _guess_ things.” The grin fell off María’s face into a pout. Had it been Joaquín, he would have told María anything she ever wanted to know with her eyes looking overly large and bright, but the taller woman didn’t seem even a little affected. She only chuckled again, and shook her head.

The three fell easily into step and conversation as they worked their way through the town. K’tsal made the mistake of mentioning the medals that adorned Joaquín’s coat, and María groaned in fake despair, earning her an overly hurt look from the soldier. He couldn’t keep the act up long enough before the two of them were laughing, María nearly doubled over, much to K’tsal’s amusement. Joaquín finally asked about the woman’s odd dress, and she didn’t seem offended at all. She was dressed as a warrior of her desert clan, and she explained that her entire ‘village’ if it could be called that, were all on the same warrior spectrum, but she neglected to reveal what kind of warrior that was. She asked of them, and María and Joaquín responded in kind, telling her how they grew up together with another friend – the one they were going to meet – and how María was sent away to Spain, and Joaquín became the legendary soldier.

As the small group neared the fountain area, the soft strum of guitar strings could be heard. Joaquín watched María’s face light up at the sound, before picking up her pace and heading directly towards the music. He watched as Manolo looked up and saw her coming, setting his guitar aside just in time to get bowled over by his wife. The couple shared a kiss and the soldier looked away in embarrassment. _This_ …things like this were what hurt the most. He really was happy for his best friends, that was never something he had an issue with…but _seeing_ them happy together, well, that was something else entirely. Joaquín did his best to ignore the ache in his chest, and turned to encourage K’tsal to come with him to meet Manolo. He paused for a second when he looked at her; her eyes were narrowed slightly, and her brow was furrowed in a way that looked like contemplation. She made a soft sound in her throat before joining Joaquín in walking over to the couple.

“Brother!” Joaquín was surprised when he was assaulted by Manolo. The shorter man hugged him much in the same way he had when the soldier had shown up at the bullfight. “It’s good to see you, how have you been?” Manolo had the biggest smile, and if Joaquín was being honest with himself, he couldn’t deny his best friend anything either.

“I’m doing well, Manny. How are you holding up?” Joaquín remembered the funeral that he had attended with his friends earlier in the week. He could tell that Manolo was putting on a brave face for his wife and friend. And he would never admit it, but Manolo was not doing well that day, or the days leading up to it. The soldier just wanted see and hear that his best friend was getting on better. _He needed to make sure things were ok here before he left_.

A sad look crossed the man’s face, “I’m better, but, María’s helping me thought it.” Manolo turned his head to look at his wife, the smile he had previously returning to his features. He looked back at Joaquín, “It really is good to see you. I guess you’ve been busy with the rebuilding of the town, huh?”

“Y-yeah. You know how that goes, right?” He didn’t like lying to Manolo, but it was for the best. The sooner he was better and _stopped running into things_ , the sooner he could be off. They wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore…he could get on with his life, and they with theirs. Joaquín got a smile in return and a pat on the arm from his friend, before Manolo retrieved his guitar and took his seat back on the edge of the fountain.

María was speaking with K’tsal, but Joaquín wasn’t paying over much attention to it. He saw María smile and then nod, turning and walking over to him with a mischievous smirk on her face. _Well, that can’t be good_. “Feel up to some practicing, Joaquín?” It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about, the sword at her hip going completely unnoticed before now. _Nope, this won’t be good at all_.

“Uh…ok?” He drew his sword slowly, María drawing hers much more energetically, and they squared off against each other. Joaquín glanced over at Manolo, and the man didn’t appear concerned in the least. If anything, he seemed interested in what was about to take place, his fingers idly strumming. He could see K’tsal taking a seat next to Manolo and the two exchanging pleasantries. Great, he was the only one concerned about the whole thing.

María made the first move, lunging at him as a test. Joaquín blocked, knocking the tip of her sword away. She tried it again, with the same result. María feigned before thrusting her sword at him, but he once again blocked. Frustration flashed over her features, “Joaquín!” She scolded, causing him to jump, “Stop doing that! I’m capable of holding my own, and you know that. Now, let’s do this for real.” He nodded, knowing better than to argue with her. This time when she lunged for him, he blocked in honest and then fluidly moved into a strike at her.

He hadn’t sparred with anyone since he lost his eye…and while the muscle memory was there, something wasn’t right. Joaquín knew it had to do with his missing eye, and something in his vision had changed, but it couldn’t have had that much affect on him right? He found his strikes going wide of where he was trying to aim, but for the life of him he couldn’t understand _why_. As much as he tried not to let it get to him, he was becoming irritated that he wasn’t doing as well as he should. They danced around each other, matching blow for blow, and eventually locked swords with each other. Joaquín, being bigger and stronger than Maria, obviously had the advantage and started to press against her. He could see her starting to struggle, but he didn’t relent, knowing that she’d only yell at him for it. Instead, she angled her sword so that his downward force would cause his blade to slip right off of hers and send him forward. She dodged out of the way to his left and as he stumbled forward a few steps, she used the flat of her blade to give him a smack on the rear. Joaquín let out a startled yelp from surprise, spinning around in time to see the wide smile on her face. María’s musical laughter soothed the burning of his pride.

“That was hardly fair…” he grumbled.

“Aww, don’t be like that, Joaquín.” She said through her laughter. She got back into a stance, smile becoming challenging. “Best two out of three?”

_He’ll rise to that challenge_. “Sounds good to me.” And then the were locking swords again, easily slipping into a friendly sparing match. Every once in a while, Joaquín would chance a glance at the two sitting by the fountain. Manolo looked entertained to be watching the match, providing appropriate musical accompaniment. He would cheer for both of them, and add commentary where needed. K’tsal on the other hand…looked pensive. Observing and silently judging the two like it were a ranked match. Joaquín did his best to ignore the way he could almost feel her gaze burning into him. He instead focused on his sparing partner, attempting to disarm her or expose any weakness in her form. When he saw an opening, he lunged, but realized too late that it was a trap. María tripped him up, kicking his feet out from under him, as well as disarming him. Joaquín landed flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and staring up at the sky.

There was a collective gasp between María and Manolo, and the two rushed over to him where he managed to see them in his field of vision. “Joaquín! Are you ok?” María asked, as she and Manolo helped the soldier back up to his feet. Once standing, Manolo helped steady the larger man.

“Yeah…I’m ok…but has anyone seen my dignity?” Joaquín groaned, searching around for his sword which he seemed to have lost. “Where’s my sword?” He heard Manolo let out a sigh of relief while Maria laughed softly, offering him his sword. “Ah, there is it.”

“You’re such a goofball, Joaquín.” María sheathed her own sword once Joaquín’s had been returned. She put her hands on her hips, watching the two boys, smile still plastered on her face. “Had enough yet?”

“No, I think I can stand to get my butt handed to me a few more times.” The soldier said with a chuckle. He gave Manolo a reassuring pat on the shoulder and stepped away. Joaquín rolled his shoulders and once again got into a fighting stance. His friend rolled is eyes and returned to his seat at the fountain.

María’s smile widened, turning devilish for a moment, “Ah, so you admit that I’m better than you!”

“No!” Joaquín shot back a little too quickly, but it was more whine than heat. “I, uh, I mean…you’re just, um…” He sighed when he couldn’t think of a witty comeback fast enough. María’s grin only intensified at his lack of verbal banter. Then he thought of something, “I mean, what do you expect? You’re taking advantage of a guy with a handicap.” He meant it to be a joke, but María’s face fell a little at the comment.

“Hey, I am not!” She defended, pointing her sword at him. Joaquín smirked, and got ready to put her on the defensive but was halted.

“Actually, you are.”

“Wait, what?” The soldier glanced over at K’tsal, who had stood and was watching the two carefully.

The taller woman observed him carefully, but spoke to María. “You are adept with your fighting style. Whoever trained you, knew what they were doing and you learned it well. But right now, you’re _too_ good.” She turned her attention to Joaquín, stepping a little closer to him. “I can tell that you are _both_ accomplished in your methods, however…” Her observational gaze softened when her attention was turned to the soldier. “Follow my hand, and don’t move your head until you can’t see it.” She started right in front of him, then slowly moved her hand to his left. He had barely moved his head when she stopped, turning back to María, but kept her hand in place. “This is the extent of his range…”

María, in turn, gasped softly, “Joaquín! I’m so sorry!” She looked sheepishly at him, but he couldn’t understand why.

“For…what?” He looked between the two women, one looking thoughtful, the other apologetic.

“I’ve been staying in your blind spot…” María said meekly. “Or, right at the edge of it.”

“I don’t think I understand, I’ve never lost sight of you.” He tried again, thinking it might be a good idea to put his sword away for the moment. Joaquín shifted to his other foot, absentmindedly reaching up to smooth his mustache.

María sighed, still looking like she had committed a horrible atrocity. Since she didn’t seem to be telling him anything, K’tsal spoke for her. “Essentially what she was doing was disorienting you. She was staying right at the edge of your vision, causing you to turn your head more than you used to when you fought. It compromises your balance and your footing in turn becomes jumbled and easy to target. Anything within a meter is going to be problematic for a while. It’s completely normal, especially with soldiers and warriors.”

Joaquín eyed the woman, “You sound like you’ve seen this before.”

“Aye, I have. I’ve reconditioned many soldiers in the past with injuries such as yours.” K’tsal shrugged.

_Reconditioned_? “So there’s a way to fix my…problem?” Joaquín asked, trying not to let the hope reach his voice.

The woman was silent for a long moment before nodded. “Yes…but it is the one word that no warrior or soldier ever wants to hear: time.” His face dropped at that, but she was right; that was never a word he wanted to hear. Joaquín heard the woman sigh and turned his attention back to her. “Some things will become easier sooner than others. Basic reconditioning can be done on your own, and can take a few weeks, to a couple of months. Other things, like fighting, can take up to a year to settle, and you’ll need sparing partners to help you.”

“Can you help?” Manolo asked from the fountain. He had paused in his playing to listen in on the conversation.

“I can, but its best he trains with people who are going to be here. I’m just passing though, and offering my services to help rebuild this beautiful town.” She shrugged, “Besides, I’m not one for swordplay.”

María looked at K’tsal curiously, eyeing something on her back. “Well, what about these?” She asked, reaching for the thing she saw on the woman’s back. Joaquín saw a dangerous flash in K’tsal’s eyes, as she spun around on the spot in order to keep María from touching whatever it was she had been reaching for. He thought for a moment that the woman was going to try and harm María, and he had half drawn his sword in panic. Joaquín could see Manolo out of the corner of his eye stand quickly in response to him drawing his sword. But both men relaxed as K’tsal grabbed María’s hand and instead of doing any damage, pulled her into an impromptu dance. The taller woman spun her around by her hand a few times, making up a few steps before somehow handing her off to Joaquín, who stood there awkwardly not knowing what to do.

María only laughed and pulled Joaquín along for a short dance, the man tripping over his feet as she led. Manolo chuckled off by the fountain and started strumming out a tune on his guitar. The soldier could feel his face heating up as he half danced, half stumbled around with María. Her laughter was infectious, he couldn’t help himself chuckle, feeling lighter on the inside than he had in a while. He tried to keep his heart from speeding off into a furious beat, but María had that effect on him. María soon stopped, still laughing and he thought about how ridiculous they must look.

Joaquín spotted K’tsal walking back to where Manolo was, and he got a good look at her back. There were two handles crossed in and X near the small of her back, and from the looks of the sheathes, were daggers. _Ah, that makes sense that she didn’t want María touching them_. Daggers like those, were only meant as a last resort, and only if you intended on ending your opponents life. He had seen some specialized soldiers from other towns with similar daggers, and he remembered how they didn’t want anyone touching them. It was more or less an invitation to draw blood.

“Can you help him while you’re here?” The guitarist asked, now that the woman was next to him again. Before she could speak, he added more quietly, “He’s my best friend…I just want to help him.”

K’tsal sighed, “It really is better if someone _here_ trains him. And it looks like your mate has everything covered here.”

Joaquín looked over at the two sitting on the fountain’s edge. María was still standing close to him, but not close enough to worry him too much. “What, are you afraid that you wouldn’t be able to take me?” He gave the woman a challenging smile, puffing out his chest to make himself look more impressive. He was a little disheartened when she snorted.

“Boy, I would _ruin_ you.” He could see the amusement in her eyes, but something dangerous also danced behind them. “Besides, I think you already have your hands full.” She waved a hand in María’s direction.

“With María?” Joaquín asked, glancing down at his friend. The corner of his mouth twitched with the threat of a smirk. He knew he was going to enter dangerous water with his next comment, but he was hoping María knew him well enough that he would be joking. “Nah, I let her win.”

“Excuse me?” María did not sound pleased. _Damn it_. She turned on him, poking him roughly in the chest, “I’ve heard you say some stupid things, but that’s definitely one of the worst! What do you mean _you let me win_?”

Joaquín’s eye went wide, and he tried to lean away from the painful poking but was unsuccessful. He didn’t mean for it to _backfire_ on him! He raised his hands in surrender, hoping it would placate María, and he darted his eye over to Manolo, sending him a pleading look. The soldier missed the way María’s mouth quirked into a smirk and the playful glint in her eyes.

Manolo merely shrugged and continued to pluck the guitar strings. “Hey, don’t look at me. I’m not the one who said something asinine.”

Joaquín returned his attention back to María, the smile on her face looked more like a bearing of teeth than a true smile. He gulped down his rising panic, attempting to stutter out something. “I uh…I’m just gonna…um.”

“Run?” María offered helpfully.

“That. I’m…gonna do that.” Neither one moved for several moments, both trying to size the other up. But then María twitched, and Joaquín was off, María in close pursuit.

“Get back here Mondragón!” María called after him, a laugh touching the edge of her words. Joaquín’s panic ebbed at the shout; at least she wasn’t truly mad at him. Still, he kept running, leading her on a chase through the streets of the town. He chanced a look back, seeing that María was hot on his trail, Manolo not much farther behind. The soldier continued to lead the chase, running down streets and paths they had as children. A laugh bubbled out of him, and he could hear his two best friends calling after him with playful shouts that reminded him of better times.

He remembered running down and playing in these very streets with María and Manolo like it wasn’t ten years ago. Playing with wooden swords and getting in, and consequently out, of trouble was an almost daily occurrence. Those were some of the best memories he had of this place, was when he was with his best friends. He didn’t feel the oppressive loneliness when he was with them, and somehow, they always made the bad days better. They were the three _amigos_ after all. But now…

Joaquín tripped over a few cobble stones in the road, but kept going, darting down another street and narrowly avoiding running over a towns person. The older woman shouted angrily at him, then practically screeched as María and Manolo narrowly missed her as well. He could hear the laughed apologies and the pounding of feet behind him, and they were getting closer. Joaquín kept up his pace, making sure that he didn’t get too far ahead of his friends or slowing down too much to be caught easily. However, he had tried to over think where he was leading them and took a corner too sharply, running right into the edge of the building. He bounced off, stumbling around for a moment or two too long while regaining his balance when he was attacked by María. She jumped on his back, holding on surprisingly well as he spun around, attempting to dislodge her. Her arms tightened around his neck, her breathless giggles tickling his ear causing a trill to run through his body.

A second later, Manolo grabbed hold of his front, holding him in a tight hug and preventing him from moving any more. At least, that’s what he thought. Joaquín chuckled, wrapping and arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, being mindful of the guitar, and pulling him to his side, then proceeded to start walking down the street that had ended up on.

“How…are you still…moving?” Manolo grunted, doing his best to dig his heels into the ground to prevent Joaquín from further movement. It was proving to be futile; the soldier carried on like nothing was hindering his movements. Not that was anything new. He remembered many times in the past when they were children when Manolo and/or María had tried to drag him down and were unsuccessful.

Joaquín chuckled, pausing only to stop Manolo from falling down when he slipped on the cobblestones. “C’mon, Manny, you know me. Nothin’s gonna stop me unless I want it to.”

He heard María laugh, finally releasing her hold and hopping off his back and joined Manolo. The guitarist retracted himself from under Joaquín’s arm, chuckling to himself. “I don’t know, brother. María seemed to have stopped you earlier.”

“Hey, that doesn’t count. Sparring is…different.” The soldier looked at the ground, becoming suddenly very interested in the pattern of the stones.

“Whatever you say, Joaquín.” María gave him a playful slap on his arm. “We won’t think any less of you.”

Joaquín looked up and saw his two best friends smiling at him, and he couldn’t help but grin himself. There was a little voice in the back of his head, telling him not to get used to this. This was just a freak run in with them, it wasn’t going to be an everyday occurrence. They were married now; they didn’t want to hang around a bachelor all the time, childhood friend or no. He was reminded sharply that he was only going to be in town long enough to recondition himself to having only one eye. Once he felt he was comfortable moving around and fighting…not to mention not running into doors, knee height objects or the corners of buildings…he would be off to once again do what he did best: helping people and getting the bad guys. They didn’t need him around messing up their lives.

“I’ve always loved this area.” He heard María sigh next to him, and turned to see what she was looking at. Joaquín was surprised to see that they had made it all the way to the entrance of the town, overlooking the bridge and out into the desert. The entrance arch was being rebuilt as they stood there, and it was nearly completed. His eye couldn’t help but be drawn to the large tree to the left of the bridge and up a hill, and the sight sent a shiver down his spine. _Try not to think about it_.

“What’s that?” Manolo asked, squinting his eyes towards the horizon. The other two tried to see what he was looking at, Joaquín covering his good eye with a hand to better see. It took a couple of seconds, but managed to see what Manolo was talking about.

“Looks like someone on horseback…” Oh good, his distance vision was still just as perfect as it ever was. After watching for another few moments, he was hit with a realization, “And they aren’t stopping.” Joaquín could see clearly now, the horse and rider blasting towards the bridge, and he could tell that the horse was _not_ under control of the rider. He had to do something; else it was possible that people, including the rider, would get hurt. Joaquín sprinted towards the bridge, his friends following behind him.

“What’s going on?” María called, confused as to why he had taken off running again.

“I need to stop that horse; it’s been stirred into a panic and it just running at full speed.” He’d seen this before with some of the soldiers that weren’t used to riding horses, and didn’t know how to get them back under control once they’d been spooked. “I need you to get the workers out of it’s path, I’ll take care of the horse and the rider.” He didn’t wait for a response, picking up his pace to try and get part way onto the bridge. Joaquín waited for the right moment before starting to run back towards the town, turning his head so that he could see how close the horse was getting. He felt the thundering hoof beats rattling the wooden boards beneath him, and he knew he was only going to get one chance.

Joaquín waited a few more seconds and as the horse was about to barrel past him, he grabbed the reigns and used his and the horses momentum to swing himself onto the horse behind the rider. He ignored the strain in his hand and shoulder from the action; he’d worry about the pain later, right now he needed to concentrate on getting the beast under control…and he was running out of bridge. The soldier grabbed the other side of the horses’ reigns, pulling back strong enough to get the creature’s attention, but not enough to cause any damage. The horse took notice and slowed, but as it passed under the welcome arch, it decided that it didn’t like that it’s head was being jerked back, and reared. Joaquín kept a firm grip on the reigns, and squeezed his legs around the horse so that he wouldn’t but thrown off. He was absently aware of the rider slamming into his chest, more concerned with controlling the animal.

The seconds stretched on like minutes, but eventually the horse settled down. Joaquín hadn’t been aware that he had been holding his breath until he let out a heavy sigh. With the horse back under control and appearing calm, the soldier addressed the rider who was still pressed against his chest. He looked at the rider and discovered that it was a woman, and he could feel her trembling against him. “Are you alright?”

“I-I think so…just a bit shaken.” The woman let out a shuddering breath, bending forward and placing her head in her hands. Joaquín took the opportunity to dismount, keeping a tight grip on the reigns with one hand and sticking close to horse and rider. He waited patiently as she composed herself, only now taking her in. She looked of average height and build, but it was difficult to be sure with her still being on the horse. She wore a white top - similar in style to María’s - but with long sleeves, green and purple thread in decorative scroll at the cuffs and neck. Her long skirt was yellow, red roses adorning the bottom, her riding boots poking out from the bottom. Her head was still cradled in her gloved hands, and he could see her long, light brown hair was braided around her head before the tail came to rest across her shoulder. When the woman finally leaned back with a sigh Joaquín could see she had a heart shaped face.

With a soft smile, she looked down at him with large, honey brown eyes. She was clearly embarrassed. “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. It’s just…everything was fine, and then he just freaked out and…” she trialed off, avoiding eye contact.

Joaquín easily slipped into hero mode, becoming overly nonchalant. “Eh, it was no problem. Just doing my job.” He stroked his impressive mustache with a grin, pleased to get a quiet giggle in return from the rider. He handed the reigns back to the rider, receiving a meek ‘thank you’ in return.

Something passed over her features, as if remembering something. “I’m sorry! I never thanked you! So…thank you.” She nodded her head towards him.

“Like I said, just doing my job. No thanks necessary.” Joaquín brushed down his medals out of habit, “Welcome to San Ángel.” The woman sent him another shy smirk before clicking her tongue, urging the horse forward. He watched her a moment longer, before turning to search for his friends. It didn’t take them long to hurry over to him. “Good job with getting the workers out of the way in time.”

“That was amazing!” María said excitedly, “No wonder they gave you the title of ‘town hero’!”

The soldier scratched the back of his neck, “It wasn’t _that_ impressive…”

“Are you kidding? That was plenty impressive!” Joaquín sighed, looking to Manolo for help. The guitarist only smiled and shook his head.

“No, she’s right. That was very impressive. How come you never told stories like that?” Manolo took up one side of the soldier, María on the other, and the two of them steered Joaquín in the direction they wanted.

“I would have appreciated you telling me about things like that, rather than how you got _every single one_ of your medals.” María teased, poking him in the side.

Joaquín thought about how to answer. “I guess…I guess that, if I didn’t get a medal for it, it wasn’t worth talking about. Like it wasn’t an accomplishment _good_ enough to warrant a story.”

María hummed a response in that special way that said she was saving a bit of information for later. “Well, I like the everyday hero Joaquín better than the over inflated head hero Joaquín.” He grumbled at that, disgruntlement clear in his features. María only laughed, giving him a friendly shove. “Tell us a story?”

“I don’t know…” Joaquín drawled, trying to keep his lips from twitching into a smirk.

“C’mon, brother, we all know you can’t resist talking about yourself.” Manolo laughed, earning him a slap on the arm from María. “What! It’s true.”

Who was he kidding, Manolo was right. “Alright, alright. Let’s see…” Joaquín tried to think of a good story that they both would like, and after a few minutes one came to him. “Ah! Ok, so I was hanging out with these soldiers in another town…” And he launched into the story.

Before he knew it, they were passing through the threshold of casa de Sánchez. Once he finished his story he attempted to excuse himself, but neither Manolo or María were having it. They asked him to stay, ‘eat something at least!’ and the three of them shared stories late into the day. María told stories from when she was in Spain, speaking of the trouble that she still managed to get into even by herself. While they were few, Manolo had stories that didn’t relate to bullfighting, and he excitedly recounted times when he and the mariachi brothers ended up in some tight situations. Literally.

It was in the middle of a story María was telling about playing pranks on the nuns, where she was having trouble getting through it because she was laughing so hard, Joaquín and Manolo in stitches as well, that it really felt like old times. He knew it wouldn’t last, and he absorbed the energy like a sponge. The more happy memories he had with his friends, the better off he’d be when he finally left. María managed to get through her story, and Joaquín was still trying to catch his breath, attempting to stand from his place on the floor where he landed when Manolo accidentally knocked him off the couch in their laughter.

“Thank you, very much, for inviting me into your home.” Joaquín said, subtly trying to wipe a stray tear of mirth from his good eye. “But it’s time that I make my evening rounds. Today has been…a lot of fun.”

María looked like she was going to protest, but Manolo rested a hand on her lower back to stop her. “Let me walk you to the door, brother.” Joaquín was proud of himself when he didn’t manage to trip over the sitting table while walking to the door with Manolo. The two stopped at the door, a slight awkwardness overcoming the solider that he didn’t understand. “It was good seeing you today. Don’t be a stranger to us, alright? We’re more than happy to have you here.”

Joaquín smiled, giving the shorter man’s shoulder a squeeze. “I know.” He made to walk out the door, before he was struck by something, a soft chuckle escaping him. “I see you’re actually letting me leave through the door this time. No more crawling out your window, huh?” Joaquín remembered having to climb out Manolo’s window every night he decided to visit and hang out with his friend, neither of them wanting to face the wrath of _Señor_ Sánchez.

Manolo shook his head, a sad smile on his face. “No, I suppose not…but you know exactly why I made you do that, it’s not like I _wanted_ you to.”

“Sure you didn’t. I remember the times you nearly laughed so hard and loud you almost woke your father when I slipped and fell on my face.” He gave Manolo another reassuring squeeze at the pinch in his brows at the mention of his father. “I’ll see ya around.” It wasn’t a complete lie, but it still tasted bitter on his tongue. They said their goodnights and Joaquín left, disappearing into the night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thanks for taking the time to read this. I plan on posting about once a week, time permitted. As for the title, I'm going with the Metallica version, since it's the first one I ever heard. Notes will probably be sparse unless an extra added warning is needed.


	2. Amaranth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be safe, I'm putting a trigger warning here for unwanted advances. It's in the second part after the first break.

Manolo reclined on the bed playing his guitar while María went about getting ready for the night. Joaquín had left some time ago, leaving the two in the large home. He was lost in his thoughts; the chords he was idly playing were sparse and disjointed. María knew from experience that when he did that, there was something on his mind or bothering him. She undid her hair, before plopping onto the bed beside him with a contented sigh, snuggling up to Manolo. When he made no move to acknowledge her and continued to stare off into space, she placed her hand over his to stop his strumming.

“Manolo, what’s bothering you?” She looked up at him, but he continued to gaze at the wall.

It was another few moments before he spoke, looking down at his guitar and plucking a few strings. “Nothing.”

“Husband…” she warned, and Manolo sighed, finally looking down at his wife.

“I’ve been thinking about earlier, when we were by the fountain.” He started, not entirely sure how to continue. María hummed in encouragement and he tried to formulate his thoughts. “That woman that was with us for a while…there’s something strange about her.”

María repositioned herself, cuddling into Manolo. “K’tsal? How so?”

“I…I don’t know how to explain it.” He murmured, making a low sound in his throat in slight frustration. María rubbed slow circles into his back, and he relaxed a little. “It’s like…it’s like a feeling inside that tells me there’s something strange about her…something, I don’t think bad is the word, but _wrong_.” Manolo sighed. “Maybe I’m just being stupid…”

María propped herself up on an elbow to better see her husband’s face. “No.” She then reached out and gently turned his face towards her. “Never say that. If you’re getting a gut feeling that something isn’t right, then it’s probably true. Now, tell me what else is on your mind, I know that isn’t the only thing you’re bothered by.”

Manolo was quiet for a few moments before he spoke. “It really shouldn’t matter, but she didn’t seem willing to help Joaquín. She knows how to help him, yet she’s refusing to do so…” His brows knit in slight irritation. Everything about that woman seemed off, from her mannerisms to the way she dressed…Manolo couldn’t ever recall seeing a woman dressed as a man, much less dressed like…that. Not to say he had a problem with it exactly, he was more than open to women doing anything a man could do; his great grandmother and María were proof of that. “It seems selfish and cruel to say that she can help him and then do nothing.”

María made a thoughtful noise, thinking over what he was telling her. “I don’t think it’s quite like that…” Manolo gave her a disbelieving look and she raised an eyebrow in response. “I think what she was trying to say is that it wouldn’t benefit Joaquín to train with her when she isn’t going to be here long. It would be better for him if there was someone here, who wasn’t planning on leaving, to help him adjust.” Her husband huffed, looking away, and she smiled at him. “I don’t think she was only talking about me either. There are things you can help him with too.”

_He never needed_ my _help in the past_ … “I don’t see what I can do…I don’t know how to fence.” Manolo plucked at his guitar, the strings sounding frustrated in reflection to it’s player.

“No, but you know how to bullfight.” María suggested, but only earned an incredulous look. “Think about it: you’re light on your feet and have excellent evasion skills. You might not know how to fence, but you can still wield a sword. It might actually be _better_ for Joaquín to face off against an opponent who doesn’t know anything about fencing, because then you become unpredictable.” She rolled her eyes when Manolo still didn’t appear convinced. “Or, you know…could just be target practice.”

Manolo nearly snorted, “Yeah…that sounds more like it.” María laughed softly, giving him a loving shove. It earned the desired effect when he smiled, but it quickly slipped from his face as his look became distant again.

She reached out a hand and ran the back of it along the side of his face. He didn’t look at her, yet he leaned into her touch. “There’s something else, isn’t there?” Manolo still didn’t look at her, not until she rubbed her thumb against his cheek. He seemed hesitant to say anything else, but her gaze made him crumble.

“I thought she was going to hurt you.” He said softly.

“Why do you say that?” María was genuinely confused about what he was talking about. Sure, the woman’s mannerisms were a little odd, but there was nothing that stood out to María that she meant harm.

“I’m serious, María, I thought….” He sighed again, reaching up to rub at his face. “I don’t know _what_ I saw, but I think Joaquín saw the same thing.” And he meant to ask him about it earlier and completely forgot. _Damn it_. “When you reached for what was on her back, something about her…changed. It was like…it was like I saw a completely different person.”

“Manolo, she didn’t hurt me. Sure, she distracted me long enough that I forgot about the blades on her back, but nothing bad happened.” María comforted.

“No, it wasn’t like that…I mean, yeah, she did get overly defensive about them, but that isn’t what I meant.” Manolo set his guitar aside, turning onto his side to look at his wife. “I’m saying, that she _changed_. For a split second, I saw _something_ _else_.”

María thought on that for a minute or so. Whatever he saw, it was really bothering him. She didn’t think it was time to worry yet, and she would listen to what he had to say. “What did you see?”

Manolo pursed his lips, unsure if she humoring him or not. “I saw her eyes turn red and…and her hair wasn’t black anymore, it was almost a dark purple or something like that.” He shook his head; he must sound crazy to her. “Like I said, it was only for a second.”

She hummed in response, deciding to tuck herself into Manolo once again. Her husband sighed and wrapped his arms around her, his chin gently resting on her head. “If you said you saw it, then I believe you.” Manolo breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that she didn’t think he was crazy. He had thought that was the end of it, but it seemed his wife had other ideas. “She still didn’t harm me though.”

“María…” It sounded more like a pleading whine, since he knew better than try and use a tone that said ‘warning’.

“I think you’re overreacting, but if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll keep a close eye on her.” She said with a shrug.

Manolo pulled back enough to look at her. “ _Mi amor_ , she’s dangerous. I don’t want you _near_ her.”

“Are you telling me what to do, husband?” María asked with a hint of challenge in her tone.

“N-no…” Manolo stumbled over the answer. “I’m just worried. I don’t want anything to happen to you…” He trailed off not knowing what else to say, his mind elsewhere and in the past. He was brought out of his haze by a gentle touch.

“Oh, Manolo…” María knew what he was thinking about, and she didn’t blame him. “I’ll be fine. Nothing is going to happen to me. I’ll make sure of it.” She pulled him into a soft kiss, and she felt him relax a little. Manolo pulled her tight to him, and she accepted his embrace fully. He eventually dropped off to sleep, his arms only loosening a fraction. María smiled, knowing her husband meant well, but she could also take care of herself.

Doing her best not to jostle him, she blew out the candles next to the bed and settled in for the night.

* * *

The next several days went much the same for Joaquín; he did his morning and evening patrol around the town, helped out here and there with the reconstruction of buildings, hung around the army barracks, but mostly avoided his two best friends. If they had come looking for him, he did an excellent job being illusive. Then again, if María ever set out to doing something, it was going to get done. No matter what. Which led Joaquín to believe that they either weren’t interested in finding him or were too busy. This suited him just fine, the less time he spent with his friends the easier it would be to leave when the time came. Surely they could understand that he couldn’t stay here…there were towns and cities all over México that could use his help. Without the threat of Chakal anymore, San Ángel was no longer on the radar for anyone.

When he wasn’t doing his patrols around the town, he was tracking down the stray bandits left over from Chakal’s gang. They were easy enough to apprehend, and those that did fight back were no match for Joaquín – medal or no. The soldiers at the barracks continued to praise and hail him as the town hero, but he couldn’t see himself as that anymore. The fame he acquired over the years was due to the fact that he was indestructible. Some of the fights and battles he had gotten himself into in the past would have easily killed him had it not been for that fact. He tried not to think about it too much, but it was hard not to when he stared at the ceiling at night unable to sleep due to the nightmares.

Joaquín rolled his shoulder to work out the stiffness. He had been right when he knew that it would be killing him the morning after he saved that woman. It was going to be a long, painful lesson in learning how much influence the medal had on his body. Really, Joaquín should consider himself lucky he didn’t manage to pull his arm from the socket with that move. _Note to self, no more grabbing the reigns of a moving horse in order to saddle up_. He also knew that it was dumb, but he tried to keep up the appearance of being indestructible. The town he called home had come to the understanding that nothing could harm him, and he could survive anything. Might as well try not to dash their hopes, right?

He sighed, eying the glass he had been given by one of the younger soldiers. Joaquín had been invited to go out with a group of the new recruits to a local bar, and he had readily agreed. Anything to get him out and about, especially to a place that his friends would probably never look to find him. He stayed more to the back, keeping an eye on the young bucks and making sure they didn’t get into any trouble. Heaven knows the kind of trouble he got himself into when he was their age, might as well try and prevent some of it happening to them. They hadn’t been there for very long before the men had started to get a little rowdy. Nothing to be concerned about yet, but he knew that things could go from fun to fight in a matter of seconds.

Joaquín was momentarily distracted when the door to the bar swung open, a woman making her way over to the bar. He wasn’t going to pay much attention to it, but then he recognized her as the woman from a few days ago. He would have assumed that she had spent the night to rest her horse and then packed up and headed out…he would never have guessed that she’d have stuck around. Joaquín stayed where he was, but began paying more attention to his men. He had seen how some of them had acted towards the women in town, and now with his changed perspective, found it intolerable.

And he was right about keeping an eye on the soldiers. For no sooner had the woman ordered a drink, several of the men started towards her. “Hey beautiful, feel like having a good time?”

“We’ll take good care of you, we promise.”

“C’mon, have a little fun with us.”

The woman’s eyes darted between the three soldiers that had saddled up to her, blocking her in against the bar. “N-no thank you.” She told them, shrinking slightly into herself, avoiding eye contact with any of them.

“Don’t be like that, we just want to have some fun.”

“Yeah, live a little.”

The woman wasn’t exactly cowering under the lecherous stares of the men, but she appeared more than uncomfortable. She shook her head, her voice apparently not working. One of the soldiers leaned in close to her, and she flinched away from him when he spoke to her.

“Then why did a pretty little thing like you come into a bar full of soldiers?”

Joaquín had seen enough, and was appalled with the men. He was going to make their life a living hell the next time they had training with him. He stood from the table he was at and walked over to the bar, some of the other younger soldiers quickly making way for him. He towered over the three cadets, his features betraying his displeasure with them. Only two of the soldiers recognized the wrath that could be dealt to them and immediately backed off. The third was either too stupid or too drunk to notice. “Is there a problem here?”

“N-no, Captain…” The two smarter ones stammered hastily, quickly turning tail and retreating to another part of the bar. The third stayed and eyed him suspiciously, clearly not understanding what he was getting into.

“No problem at all, Captain. I’m just chatting with this lovely lady.” _Ah, too drunk then_. The soldier lacked the sense to stop and continued talking, “And if I didn’t know any better, you were trying to steal her from me. Well, I saw her first. Go find yourself some other woman.”

Joaquín had to reel in his temper to prevent himself from knocking the idiot out. Instead, he crossed his arms, making himself look even bigger and more intimidating. “I’m going to ask you once, and only once. Back off, and return to the barracks. Maybe you’ll realize how much of a moron you sound like after you’ve sobered up.”

That must have been the right, or wrong depending how you looked at it, thing to say. Anger clouded the young soldier’s features, the alcohol running through his system dulling whatever common sense he had. He only needed to make one mistake and it was a major one: he took a swing at his superior officer. 

Joaquín easily dodged the drunken attack, the inebriated soldier’s moves slow and sloppy. It only took one calculated and strategic strike from Joaquín, which he was pleased to note was right on target, to down the soldier. He wasn’t knocked out, but definitely out of commission. His fist clenched looking down at the cadet. **_  
_**

**_Hit him again, he deserves it_** …something hissed in the back of his mind.

Joaquín paused a moment at the thought, finding it unnerving and out of place. Instead, he looked down at the man with disgust, “Take him back to the barracks. I expect to see all of you there when I return later, or there will be severe consequences.” _There were going to be severe consequences anyway for those three_ …he thought furiously to himself. 

The thing that had hissed before seemed to chuckle and retreat back into the dark recesses of his mind.

He watched as the group of cadets he’d come to the bar with scramble like their lives depended on it. In a way, it did. The drunken man’s two friends grabbed him and hauled him out of the bar, following the rest of the men that had hi-tailed it out of there a quickly as they could. Joaquín let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should stay a little longer, if only to whip those boys into shape. He approached the shaken up woman, hoping not to startle her. “Are you alright?”

She offered him a wary smile, seeming to lean heavily against the bar. “I am now. Thank you…again.” _So she remembered him_. She laughed quietly, “Seems we only meet under less than ideal circumstances.”

“Can’t judge just by the two meetings we’ve had.” He replied smoothly. “Though, I can’t say we’ve actually met properly.” Joaquín offered the woman his hand, “The names Joaquín Mondragón.”

He received a real smile this time, and the woman took his hand in hers and shook it. Joaquín was momentarily distracted by how small her hand was in his. “Elísa Rose. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Elísa retracted her hand and folded it with her other.

“There, now we’ve had a proper meeting and introduction.” He leaned against the bar, slipping into his old persona easily. Joaquín wiggled his mustache and received a soft giggle from Elísa and she seemed to relax a little, which is what he was aiming for. Time to make up for the poor behavior of his men, “I have to apologize to you…it’s inexcusable what just happened. If there’s anything I can do for you, please don’t hesitate to ask.” 

Elísa smiled shyly at him, before looking down at the bar top, but she nodded in acknowledgement. 

Thinking the conversation was over, and not wanting to make the woman feel any more uncomfortable than she already did, turned to leave the bar and give his soldiers back at the barracks what for.

Joaquín was almost at the door when he head her speak. “Well, there is one thing…” He paused and turned to look at her, noticing that she had started to follow him. When she had made it to his side, she continued. “You could give me a tour of the town?” He rose his eyebrows at the simple enough request, thinking only for a moment that he might be _spotted_ in the process. Elísa must have taken it as hesitance and quickly tried to backtrack. “I-I mean…if it’s ok with you, that is…I would just feel safer with you with me, and…” She quieted immediately, realizing what she just said and her cheeks colored accordingly. “And, I’m making a fool of myself.” She covered her face with her hands, much like she had done when she was on the horse.

Joaquín only chuckled, and Elísa peeked through her fingers at him. He nodded his head to the door and offered her his arm. “Not at all. I would be happy to give you a tour of the town.” She hesitated a few seconds before taking his arm, but kept her gaze anywhere but on him. _Not much one for conversation_ …well, that was fine. Like Manolo had so cheerfully reminded him several days ago, he did like to hear himself talk. Deciding that it wasn’t worth worrying about, Joaquín lead Elísa out of the bar and started down the road.

He talked about the important buildings that they passed, and the history of the town. He pointed out the major landmarks and what to look for if she ever got lost on the winding streets. It took a little time, but she seemed to feel comfortable enough to ask questions as they meandered though the town. Joaquín was happy to explain or clarify, proud at his extensive knowledge of his childhood home. Eventually the focus shifted from the town to each other, with only mild interruptions when he though something important to point out.

Joaquín learned that Elísa had left her hometown in search of somewhere new to live. Her old home didn’t hold any more value for her, and she set off in search of a fresh start. She didn’t give any specifics, but from what little she _did_ say, Joaquín gathered that it held bad memories. She had heard rumors of a beautiful town surrounded by a moat, and thought that it sounded perfect. Elísa had said that she was lucky she found it when she did; she had heard rumors of a rising bandit gang staking the area now that the previous one had moved out. She then explained what she thought happened the day that she made it to the town; it might have been a snake that scared her horse and put him into panic mode. If Joaquín hadn’t have been there to save the day, she didn’t know what might have happened.

Joaquín in turn told her about growing up in the town practically alone, though there was always someone watching after him, being the son of the town hero. He told her about his two best friends and she laughed with him when he recounted a few stories of them getting into trouble. He told her about his training under General Posada, and his travels across the country, saving towns and catching bandits. When she inquired about the town repairs, he told her of the battle with Chakal, being mindful to leave out the supernatural parts. He also neglected to mention that was how he lost his eye.

“No wonder they call you the town hero, taking down the Bandit King like that.” Elísa praised.

He stopped at that, the two of them standing in the shadow of the town fountain. With a smile, he shook his head. “No, it wasn’t me that was the hero that day. All I did was put the town in danger. My friends…Manolo and María, they’re the real heroes of San Ángel.”

She hummed softly, her gaze distant, but contemplative. “You hold your friend in high regard, it sounds. You must really care for them.”

“They’re not just my friends…they’re my family.” It was only after saying it, and finding the truth in it, that Joaquín had an epiphany. He couldn’t just _leave_ his friends. They might be married now, but they were still his friends. Still his _family_. They were the only people he had, and he couldn’t believe that he was just going to give that up. And for what? His own selfish feelings. Even if he did leave, it wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change his feelings for María, it wouldn’t change the why he would miss his best friends. It would be just like it had been the last ten years: a torturous, lonely experience. While he knew he would still have to go out to other towns, now that Chakal was dead, the tours wouldn’t have to be the month’s long journeys they used to be.

**_No_** , something hissed, **_you must leave…it is for their own protection…you will only bring them pain and suffering being here. THEY will only cause YOU pain and suffering as well…you MUST leave_** _…_ it crowded his mind and push his previous thoughts aside into oblivion, almost as if they had never existed. 

Joaquín shook his head, trying to clear it of the dark presence, and thankfully it receded. He tried to remember what his previous train of thought was, but the more he dug, the further away it seemed. The only thing that was left was a painful clench in his chest that he didn’t remember being there before.

He was brought back to the present by a shifting weight at his side, looking down at Elísa. He chuckled nervously, “I uh…guess I got lost there for a moment.”

She shrugged, not seeming bothered by it. “I don’t mind. It gave me time to admire your handsomeness.”

_Well that was unexpected_. “Ah, so you think I’m handsome?” Joaquín stood a little taller, smoothing down his mustache with a grin.

“Perhaps…” Elísa said slowly, watching him out of the corner of her eyes. “You at least live up to your reputation.” His eyebrows rose in surprise, and he must have looked odd because she giggled. “What? I’ve heard the stories.”

He really shouldn’t have been surprised; he had been _everywhere_ after all. But he couldn’t help from asking, “Oh? From where?”

“Probably a better question was where _hadn’t_ I heard stories. Every town I stopped in, there was always a group of women talking about the Handsome Hero of San Ángel. You, _Señor_ , are practically a household name.” Joaquín didn’t know if she was purposefully fluffing his ego, but he was always pleased to be reminded how famous he was. He was going to say something about knowing how awesome he was, but she sighed, and took a small step away from him. “As much fun as I’m having, I best be going. The sun is starting to set and I still have to go by the stables.” She offered him a shy smile, “I want to thank you for all you’ve done for me, and taking time out of your busy day to show me around.”

“It was no problem, really.” It was the least he could do after what the cadets did. “Can you get to the stables from here? Do you need me to walk you?”

“I can find my way from here, thank you.” She assured. Elísa started to walk off, but seemed to think better of it a moment later, returning to stand in front of Joaquín. She looked up at him, seeming to be studying something.

Growing nervous under her gaze – _had it always been so intense_? – he shifted onto his other foot. “Is…is there something on my face?” At her nod, he started rubbing his face with a hand.

Elísa laughed quietly at his actions, waving him down. “Here, I’ll get it.” As soon as he was within her reach she grabbed his chin and pulled him closer to her, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. He pulled back out of surprise, just catching her smirk and a flash of _something_ in her eyes before it was gone, making him question if it was even there. This time, she truly pulled back and took several steps away from him. “Good evening, Joaquín.” Elísa chirped before spinning on her heel and heading out on her way.

“Yeah…” Joaquín watched her go, not sure how he should feel about what just happened. Normally, he was elated to have that kind of attention from women, but with her…something was bothering him about it, but he couldn’t understand what. He wouldn’t worry about it now; he’ll just take it at face value: a thank you, and nothing more. Shaking his head he started on his way. He had cadets to deal with.

* * *

Manolo and María were walking through the streets, heading towards the market. They had spent the morning and most of the afternoon helping with getting the orphanage back to acceptable conditions. Manolo didn’t like that the strange woman was there as well, the unexplainable feeling returning. Luckily for him, she only gave them a friendly greeting before returning to helping the workers getting the walls back up. He was easily distracted watching his wife interact with the orphans, playing with the children and reading to them when they were taking a break from cleaning up rubble. Manolo happily provided music for anyone in the area, the children seemingly mesmerized at times.

Now they weaved in and out of the crowds coming into and out of the market. A flash of blue caught his attention, and upon closer inspection saw that it was Joaquín. Nudging his wife gently, he pointed the man out to her, and he started to raise his arm to gain his attention when María grabbed said arm and shoved it down. “Wha-?”

“Shh! Look.” María said in a hushed tone, pulling him to the side of a building out of the way of people traffic. Manolo didn’t know what she was going on about, but went along; peeking around the edge of the building to see what he had missed. He watched his friend for a few seconds and when he moved out of the way just slightly, Manolo could see someone with him. He looked at his wife, her face unreadable as she watched the two figures. “Who is she?”

Manolo looked again, getting a better look at the woman after a second time. “Not anyone I recognize…wait, I think that’s the woman from a few days ago. The one he saved on the horse.” María hummed in agreement. He watched Joaquín and the mystery woman, his friend talking excitedly with his hands like he normally did. The woman, for her part, at least looked interested in whatever he was talking about. Not like some of the women who had been chasing after Joaquín for years. Something inside of Manolo constricted, the feeling unpleasant to the guitarist. He didn’t know this woman, and he knew that he shouldn’t judge on one chance sighting, but it almost felt like a betrayal. Not to him per se, but to María. It was no secret the he and Joaquín had been in love with Maria for as long as they could remember, but to see this strange woman hanging off his arm… “Didn’t take him long…” It sounded harsher than he had intended, but the feeling was genuine.

María turned her head to look at him, confusion knitting her brows. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She searched her husband’s face for answers, and he studiously avoided looking at her. A slow grin crept across her face, “Manolo, if I didn’t know you better, I’d say you were jealous.” He pursed his lips at the comment, but didn’t say anything. “Wait, are you?”

“No.” Manolo continued to watch the two out in the market, still unsure of how to think or feel. “But doesn’t it seem a little strange? María, I’m not blind. I see the way he looks at you when he thinks no one is paying attention.”

María had to keep herself from groaning, “Please tell me you aren’t still doing that stupid competition thing with him…it was bad enough the first time.” She elbowed him in the side, and he finally looked at her. “Plus I’m married to _you_ , if you remember. And…you’re right. He tries to hide it, but I can still see.” She sighed. “I can’t help feel bad for him.” Her husband huffed and she elbowed him again, this time hard enough to make him grunt. “I’m serious, Manolo. Try seeing things from his side. You and your best friend are in love with the same woman. She chooses your best friend instead of you, and then you have to see them together.” María waited long enough for it to sink in, and she knew it had stuck when her husband’s face fell.

“Oh.” He hadn’t thought of it that way. Manolo silently cursed, he immediately felt like an idiot for assuming the worst of his friend.

“’ _Oh_ ’ is right.” María turned her attention back to Joaquín and the mystery woman. “Feelings like that…they don’t just go away. Not in a week, and certainly not because you meet someone.”

The guitarist still felt badly. Joaquín had been his best friend when they were children, even after María left for Spain. When the both of them had started their training, they had remained close. But…Manolo had to admit once Joaquín had started to leave the town, and his own father had cracked down on him, they had drifted apart. He should have tried harder to be there for his friend, even the few times the managed to see each other when Joaquín was here. Come to think of it, he didn’t actually remember being anywhere near the soldier when he was in town before. But that didn’t sound right…the bullfight couldn’t have been the first time they’d seen each other in years…could it? Manolo furrowed his brows in thought…no, that couldn’t be right.

María broke him out of his thoughts with quick, repetitive patting on his arm. Joaquín and the woman must have said their goodbyes because the woman was walking away. Manolo just assumed there was nothing else to see, but María grabbed his arm and when he looked again, the woman was returning. A brief conversation between them, Joaquín looking concerned about…something. And then…the woman gave him a kiss on the cheek and made a hasty retreat. That something he felt before twisted, but he tried not to let it get to him. “Or, it could be exactly what I thought…”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh, stop! Look.” Joaquín had straightened, hand on his cheek and looking…utterly confused. He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t jumping around and celebrating. He didn’t even look smug. A little over a week ago, when he had returned her home after a long walk listening to him boast about his medals, he had _expected_ a kiss on the cheek. Even though he didn’t get one, he still decided to act like an ass, dancing around his sombrero like an idiot when she said she’d think about his proposal. There was _none_ of that here. Manolo never saw the display she was thinking about, but he had to have known this wasn’t normal behavior for the soldier. From what María could tell, the mystery woman was pretty, Joaquín should have been celebrating.

María glanced at her husband and his eyes were slightly narrowed, his eyes tracking the woman rather than his friend. She rolled her eyes at him, “Honestly, Manolo, there’s no reason to be jealous.”

“I’m not jealous!” He practically groaned, “I’m just…I don’t know.” They hadn’t seen Joaquín in a few days; it was hard enough to track him down already, Manolo couldn’t imagine trying to weed out his friend if there was…someone else occupying his time. He felt bad enough about his negligence towards Joaquín, there was no need to make it worse by feeling jealous over a woman he didn’t even know or knew the intentions of. Manolo mentally cursed at that. María was right… _again_. “…maybe a little.”

Then again, maybe he had a right to be. Looking at María now, with a crestfallen appearance as she watched Joaquín walk away, it stung a little. Yes, Joaquín was a friend; a _good_ friend. But still, just a friend. And to him it looked like she was concerned about him as…maybe more. Could she have feelings for Joaquín as well? What if María realized that she made a mistake with marrying Manolo, what would happen then? Doubt started to flood into the guitarist’s mind, bringing with it images and scenarios involving his two best friends. He shook his head, pushing the thoughts away to the farthest recesses of his mind. Manolo rubbed his temples, _damn it he was doing it again_. There was no reason to be thinking this way, and he had to stop. He trusted his wife, and he trusted Joaquín. End of story.

María sighed, crossing her arms. “Yeah, me too.” That had Manolo whipping his head down to look at her with raised eyebrows. “What? He’s my friend too.” She was just worried about Joaquín. From what she had heard from the soldiers talking, he didn’t always have the best history with women. Plus she had seen how some of the woman around town acted around him, and it made her want to punch them in the face. María just wanted her friend to be happy, and she was beginning to wonder what that really meant.

“Says the woman who told me there’s no reason to be jealous.” He said, smirk playing on his lips. María gave him a light smack on the arm, grin threatening to turn into a full blown smile.

“Hush you. I’m allowed to change my mind, and I’ll be right no matter what.” María took hold of his hand and led him in the direction of the market.

“Oh? And why’s that?” Manolo raised their clasped hands, giving María’s a gentle kiss.

“Because I’m your wife, I’m always right.”

He chuckled and agreed.

* * *

A figure cloaked head to toe shuffled around in the dead of night, making a quick path to the entrance of the town. Another figure, crouched in the shadow of the arch, stood as the cloaked one neared. He didn’t seem to care much about concealing himself, his ragged appearance looking worse in the dim moonlight. He waited patiently as the cloaked person calmly stood in front of him. “I haven’t kept you long?” The cloaked one asked.

The man shifted to his other foot, his hands clenching in anxiety. “You have not given us orders in over a week…” His whispered voice sounding like a growl, “We were concerned that you had encountered an issue.” The man flinched back at the cold glare the cloaked figure gave him from under their hood.

“The only problem I’ve encountered is your lack of _loyalty_.” The cloaked figure hissed. The man seemed frozen in place under the anger of his leader. “I’ve needed to be careful as not to raise suspicion…that damned _hero_ makes rounds during the night as well…it is most inconvenient.”

“Then he _is_ here my Lord?” The man asked, glad that his leader’s anger was currently redirected.

“Yes, and he doesn’t appear to be leaving anytime soon…everything will commence as planned.” The cloaked figure paused, seeming to think something over that only the man could see. “I think it’s time to make ourselves known to this… _quaint_ little town.” The cloaked figure chuckled darkly, and the man in front of them mirrored the sound with a sickening smile.

The man’s hand spasmed around the hilt of a wicked looking dagger, like he had been waiting for the order to spill blood. “Shall I send for the rest of the guild?”

The cloaked figure nodded slowly, “Yes…the _hero_ , and subsequently his town, will regret ever crossing the Whispering Sands.” The cloaked figure chuckled again, sending the bandit off across the bridge to alert the guild. “Soon, this town will be shaken to ruins and long forgotten, and it’s _hero_ will lay dead at my feet”. The figure laughed darkly before once again disappearing into the night.

* * *

Joaquín was making his nightly rounds, much of the town silent and barren. He’d made sure to run those three recruits ragged, and planned on doing it all over again tomorrow. After he had been left to his own devices, he’d had some time to think. Joaquín had come to the conclusion that before he left, he would try and make the most of his time here. He had also decided that he was going to make a point of searching out his friends, there wasn’t any point in making them think he didn’t like them anymore. One night of shared stories did not make up for all the time they spent apart those past ten years.

For once, he was grateful for the silence, it allowed him to think. He would talk to María tomorrow about helping him train, and possibly tracking down that other woman to help. _What was her name_? Something strange and hard to pronounce…and, unfortunately for him, easily forgettable. 

He might have gotten lucky when he decked that obnoxious recruit, but he couldn’t continue to rely on luck. He needed to retrain his brain and movements to compensate for his monocular vision. Joaquín inwardly groaned; it was going to be a continuous cycle of María kicking his butt repeatedly until he figured things out. It was not something he was looking forward to.

He briefly thought about Elísa and their earlier parting. She seemed like a perfectly nice woman, she wasn’t like most of the other women he’d run into on his travels; pretty, but either lacked intelligence or tact…she had both of those things from what he could tell, but she used both in a very subtle way. Most of the other women made it painfully obvious they were only interested in him because of his popularity and title. Elísa however…was somewhat of an enigma. Shy one moment and flirting the next. Joaquín sighed. He would probably never understand women.

The sound of voices brought his attention back to the present. He was coming up on the town market area around the fountain. The voice that was currently speaking sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place from where. Joaquín decided it would be best to approach cautiously, just in case.

“…So you see my dilemma.” The voice practically purred. Joaquín was about to round a corner and enter the market, but that voice stopped him. Instead he slowly peeked around the corner of the building, and what he saw made him back up and press himself against the structure in near panic. It was none other than one of the gods of death, Xibalba and the strange woman who’s name he couldn’t remember. She said something to the god in a language he couldn’t understand, but Xibalba was clearly unimpressed. “Don’t take that tone with me, just because your language is long dead here doesn’t mean I can’t understand it.” What was he talking about? But Joaquín realized the better question was _why is Xibalba even here_?

“What do you need me for?” He heard the woman ask. The soldier chanced another glance around the building, trying to be as stealthy as possible. He barely even breathed to make himself less noticeable. The tall woman was staring impassively at the death god, two wicked looking daggers in her hands. Wait, did that mean she tried to kill him? Or attacked him at least? _Who_ does _something like that?_

“My hands are tied, it seems. I’m not allowed to interfere with the affairs of man, emphasis on the interfere part.” Xibalba drawled, waving a clawed hand around as if to make his point. “I’m on probation for the moment, and if La Muerte knew I was even _talking to you_ , well…” He trailed off, an unpleasant look crossing his features. “I’d rather not think about it. So, what do you say?” His red skull pupils looked intently at the woman, who still didn’t look convinced.

“I get that, but I don’t understand why you need _me_.” She reached behind her back and sheathed the daggers, their silver glint disappearing completely. She shifted her weight, acting for all the world like it was commonplace to be talking to a god of death.

Said god huffed, his feathers fluffing irritably. “You have the… _talents_ and _abilities_ that I require. Don’t look at me like that, it was a complement. I need _you_ to take care of my problem, because there’s nothing that _I_ can do.” The woman snorted, and Joaquín could have sworn she rolled her eyes. She must have judging by the angry and flustered way Xibalba clenched his fists. “Yes! You’ve made your point! I screwed up! I realize that I made a horrible mistake in the past with him, but I’m trying to fix it now. That must count for something.”

“Only if this idiotic plan of yours works.” The woman grumbled, rubbing at her eyes like she was frustrated with a small child. She sighed, looking up and directly at the moon, as if debating something. “If it means their happiness…” She stopped again, taking a moment to look at the hopeful god. “Then I will gladly become the villain to take care of your _problem_.”

“Fantastic, shall we make an accord?” Xibalba said smoothly and outstretched a clawed hand to the woman, the grin on his face practically dripping malicious intent. The woman snorted, crossing her arms in response.

“I don’t make _deals_ with _demons_.” She said simply, leveling the god with a glare, “I’m willingly doing this for you, there’s no need to make an accord.” She cocked her head to the side, thinking something over, “But I will request a favor of you in return.”

Xibalba rolled his eyes as his outstretched hand fell, linking with his other behind his back. He then let out a long suffering sigh. “Yes, very well, what is it?”

The woman was silent for several minutes before she spoke. “If I call for you, I expect you to show up.”

“Fine, but you’ll take care of him for me?” Xibalba eyed the woman, suddenly untrusting of her. Joaquín was starting to believe the god had good reason to, something about her didn’t seem right.

She made a thoughtful noise in her throat, but it sounded too much like a growl to the soldier. “Which one was it again?”

The god huffed again, as if explaining something to a child that didn’t understand. “Joaquín. The tall one…I trust you can solve my problem in a timely manner?”

_What_? Joaquín was having trouble processing the conversation he was listening to. Xibalba wanted him _taken care of_ …it means _their happiness_ …he was a _horrible mistake_. His mind was reeling; Xibalba wanted to kill him! That was the only possible answer that Joaquín could come up with. The god wanted him dead, for the happiness of his friends. Xibalba wasn’t even going to kill him himself; he was getting some crazy dagger wielding foreign woman to do it. He had to get away. If he could sneak off and find Manolo, maybe he could help with contacting La Muerte and exposing the god’s evil plan. But something kept him rooted to the spot, waiting for the conversation to end.

“I’ll do what I can. I had only planned on being here a few days…maybe a week at most.”

Xiblaba hummed, seemingly pleased. “See that you do…however it seems like we have a little…situation.” The god waved in his general direction, and panic flooded Joaquín. Now was probably a good time to run. _Right now_! As soon as he moved to take a step, he started to feel weightless, and the ground was no longer under his feet. A strong wind seemed to be surrounding him, and he realized in horror that the wind was _holding him above the ground_. He started to struggle, flailing in an attempt to break free, but it was useless.

“Yes, I’ve known for a while now. I’ll take care of it.” The god nodded with a smirk and in the blink of an eye, he was gone. The woman then turned her sights on Joaquín, still doing his best to fight the swirling wind. He only stopped when he heard the woman chuckle darkly, her eyes flashing in the moonlight. “Nothing personal, youngling, but it’s time to say _goodnight_.”

Joaquín thought of saying something challenging or witty, like ‘do your worst!’ but that would have only encouraged her. Instead, he felt his growing panic and horror turn into terror as her eyes turned from their previous dark brown to bright red and snake-like. She leapt into the air like a cat, jumping impossibly high, but that wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t even the fear inducing, bestial roar that she projected. No, those he could have handled. But not this…

While in midair her form changed, shifting and contorting into a horrible creature; her skin seeming to fleck off to reveal rough, gleaming scale. Her hands and feet turned into terrible claws, a long tail seemed to sprout from the base of her spine. Large wings sprouted from her back, a mix of leather and feather. Her snarling face turning into a gaping maw of sharp pointed teeth, open and ready to tear him apart. Time slowed down for him as she neared, seeming to grow impossibly larger as she descended on him. Joaquín continued to struggle, even though he knew it was futile. His heartbeat was frantic, and his breathing rapid as his mind raced to come to terms with what he was seeing and knowing what was coming. Because there was only one answer:

Death.

The last thing that he saw was his own terrified reflection in the creature’s slitted eyes.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun Duuuuuun


	3. A Truth For Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here, have an extra chapter that hadn't been planned!

Joaquín woke with a gasping breath, his hands fisted in his sheets. Several minutes passed and he finally realized that he was in his bed, in his own room. His eye still darted around the area in case something tried to jump out and attack him. His breathing finally calmed, and he relaxed only minutely. Rubbing at his face, he tried to understand what he had just woken up from. A flash of red quickly entered and then fled his mind, leaving him more confused than when he woke up in a panic. He had been having another nightmare, but there was something different about it. It had seemed _real_. Truly real, almost like reliving a memory rather than just having a jumbled dream. But that was impossible; you couldn’t have dreams like that…could you? Even to the soldier it seemed far fetched.

But then again…he wasn’t reacting the same as he usually did. Normally when he woke from a nightmare, everything he had just been dreaming about fell away as his sleep haze did. This stuck to him, much like his sleeping shirt was doing now, clinging to his mind. It didn’t help that his entire body was trembling, that was more disturbing than anything else. He hadn’t woken up like this since…since a long, long time ago. A time he would have rather not remembered, actually. Breathing a deep sigh, Joaquín rubbed at his face, attempting to shake off whatever it was what was clutching at him. _Maybe he just needed to start his day and get moving…get some fresh air._

He started to feel better once his morning routine was underway, and the strange, strangling feeling loosened and eventually disappeared. The soldier was already making plans of how he was going to whip his cadets into shape when he met them at the training arena later that morning. It was obvious after yesterday that they needed more discipline, and he was happy to provide it. Maybe he could practice his reconditioning skills on them today…yes, that was a rather appealing idea.

Leaving his house, he made his morning rounds, finding the town just as quiet as ever. It was like that since they started rebuilding. There had been no bandit sightings anywhere inside the perimeter of the town, and he hadn’t seen anything to say there were any in the area when he went on routine rides. He only briefly thought about what Elísa had told him of a bandit group heading this way, but he had seen no evidence of it. Even if they did start popping up, Joaquín would be around to take care of them…at least until he set off again. _Some things couldn’t be helped_ , he tried to tell himself. There were still things that he could do to help the people of México, things he could strive for; to be the hero everyone thought he was. But his friends…he mentally shook himself, not wanting to think about it right now.

Joaquín decided that he still had enough time to stop by the stables before heading over to the barracks and meeting up with the cadets. He didn’t _need_ to take care of his horse, the stable hands did a wonderful job, but he felt better taking care of his own. The stables were still quiet when he walked in, and he preferred it that way when he was here. Joaquín walked over to Plata, who greeted him with a nicker. The soldier smiled and pat the horse gently on the neck, Plata in turn bumping him on his shoulder with her nose. Joaquín busied himself with getting feed for his horse, Plata leaning her head over the gate to watch him. When he returned, he entered the stall and placed the food in Plata’s feeder. His horse was looking at him like ‘that’s it? This is what you bring me?’ and he chuckled. “I’ll be back later with an apple or two, how’s that sound?” Plata’s ears swiveled in his direction at the word apple and Joaquín figured that was a good enough yes.

He grabbed a brush from the side of the stall and started working on Plata’s mane, before moving on to the rest of the horse’s coat. Joaquín noticed that the horse wasn’t eating, and he paused his brushing, giving the horse a curious look. Plata shook her head, snorting and looking behind Joaquín. Knowing that his horse was trying to tell him something he asked, “What is it, girl?” He looked down the stables, trying to understand what had Plata concerned. It didn’t take him long to figure out what it could have been, two golden eyes catching his attention.

Not much farther down in the stables was a large horse, and it was _staring_ right at Joaquín. He didn’t recall seeing this horse before, he would have remembered it. Putting the brush back, he gave Plata a few reassuring strokes to the horse’s neck. “It’s alright, Plata, it’s just another horse.” _Even if it’s coloration is on the strange side_. Plata snorted again, and stamped one of her hooves, and Joaquín rolled his eyes. “Will you feel better if I checked it out?” The horse shook her head, bumping her flank into Joaquín. “Alright, alright…I get it, I’m going.” The soldier shook his head at his horse, but exited the stall. If it was bothering Plata, the least he could do was see what the fuss was about. From what he could tell, it was just a horse, but he’d get a closer look.

Walking down to the strange horse, he didn’t miss the fact that it’s gaze followed him. It was, in fact, _staring at him_. Specifically. Joaquín had never felt like prey in the eyes of a horse before, but this one was doing a good job. He approached cautiously, not knowing how the horse was going to react to him. 

As he had earlier surmised, the horse was large and well muscled, reminding him of workhorses he’d seen before. From what he could see, the horse had a brown base, with an odd spotted color pattern of lighter browns along it’s back. The most unnerving thing were the horses golden eyes; he’d never seen that coloration in horses before. And they kept staring at him, watching his movements closely. Joaquín stopped just outside biting reach of the horse, not wanting to take any chances. The horse leaned as far at it could go over the stall gate and snuffled in Joaquín’s direction. The soldier nearly jumped when the horse huffed, but didn’t appear hostile.

Taking a step forward, Joaquín watched the horse closely for any signs of agitation. The horse’s ears pivoted a little, but that was about it. Joaquín could have sworn that the horse cocked it’s head to the side while watching him, but that wasn’t something that horses did, so he ignored it. In another few steps he was standing in front of the horse, man and beast locked in a staring contest. After a few minutes the horse blinked, inclining towards Joaquín and beginning to snuffle again; his shoulder, his bandoleers, the medals adorning his jacket, not even his hair was safe from the curious equine. When the horse started to nibble at his hair, it was time to put a stop to it…it had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that horse had accidentally nibbled the top of his ear and _certainly_ nothing to do with him _squeaking_ because of it. Nope, not at all. Joaquín had never been so grateful that he was the only one here.

Joaquín redirected the horse, giving the horse’s nose a few pats, before running his fingers through the horse’s mane. He was surprised to find it feather soft. A glint caught his eye and he found a shining collar around the base of the horse’s neck. It had a large green gem set in the center segment of what looked like gold. The square segments narrowed as they went around the back of the horse’s neck and connected. There was an inscription around the stone that had Joaquín squinting. At first look, the writing didn’t make any sense, appearing more like symbols than letters. After blinking a few times, the writing appeared to clear itself up to something he could read. _Lorus of Selekk_. That was a bizarre name. “Lorus…” He murmured, the word sounding foreign on his tongue. The horse, Lorus Joaquín assumed his name was, nickered softly at him and shuffled around. He chuckled when Lorus bumped his nose into his chest. He didn’t see a problem with the horse, so he couldn’t understand why Plata was so upset about it. _Maybe she just doesn’t like sharing the stable with strange horses with stranger names_ …

He gave the horse a few more pats and then backed away, returning to his own horse. “See, Plata? Everything’s fine.” His horse huffed at him in response, but turned to her food and started eating. _Well that worked out rather well_ he thought, _and just in time, too_. Joaquín made sure to say goodbye to Plata before he left the stables, making his way to the barracks to meet up with the cadets. He hadn’t completely decided what he was going to have them do, but it was certainly going to put them through their paces. _Especially those three_ …he inwardly growled. A small part of him knew it was probably hopeless trying to teach them a lesson about having manners, but they still needed to be trained properly.

Much to his surprise, every single cadet was ready and waiting for him when he entered the barracks. Without a word, the young soldiers followed him without question as he led them to the training arena. He slowed slightly when he heard voices coming from the area, there wasn’t supposed to be anyone here…not this early anyway. Joaquín quickened his pace, many of the cadets having to jog to keep up with his long strides. When he and his group rounded the barracks corner, the arena came into full view. He was torn between being surprised and impressed.

Out in the training grounds were María and that strange woman from nearly a week ago. The two were in the middle of heated combat; María taking swipes at the woman with a practice sword, the woman with no visible weapons. She probably didn’t need any, from what he remembered of their short conversation when they first met. Something pulled his memories at the back of his mind, but they only thing he got from it was a flash of red. A knot formed in his gut, but he couldn’t figure out why that would happen…maybe it was because he was trying to distance himself from María, and yet here she was in front of him. Joaquín hadn’t noticed that he and the rest of his cadets had continued onto the training arena, his cadets watching the women from behind him.

He noticed a flash of light to his right, and found that the women weren’t the only ones here. Off behind the waist-high barrier was Manolo, watching the two dueling women carefully. María must have dragged him out here; the guitarist wasn’t a morning person from what he could remember. Manolo had a drawn look on his face as he watched the sparing match take place, Joaquín would have to find out what the problem was later. Right now, he was going to let the women finish their match.

“Hey! Clear the field! The _real_ fighters are here now!” _Or his cadets would do something stupid to put him on damage control_. He turned to his left to see who had called out, but it wasn’t immediately obvious; most of the cadets didn’t look pleased that there were, _god forbid_ , women on their training ground. Well, one woman that they could tell immediately. The two stopped what they were doing, turning their attention towards the group of soldiers. From the look that María was sending their way, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

“Hey, we have every right to be here!” María called, pointing her training sword at the group of cadets. The taller woman crossed her arms, her body language telling him she was _not impressed_.

“Pff.” Another young cadet this time, “What right does a woman have in a men’s training area?” Several other cadets chuckled and chortled with the young man. Joaquín was considering letting them bury themselves. This was not something he wanted to get involved in. He knew that María was a capable fighter; he had been there to witness it. The other woman…he could only speculate, but he had a feeling she could definitely lay the cadets out if she wanted to.

He watched as the woman shared a look, a silent conversation passing between them. María’s frustrated frown turned into an impish grin, and the taller woman’s eyes appeared to dance. It was the taller that spoke this time. “Then take it from us.”

“What?” The same cadet that had thought himself so proud spoke in confusion.

“If it is truly your right to…” The taller woman rotated her wrist in a circle, trying to find the right word, “ _reside_ here…then take it from us.”

Another cadet snorted, “As if two women had any chance against all of us.” He flashed the women a lecherous smirk, which Joaquín assumed the man thought flirty, but both women were unmoved. His smirk turned dark a moment later, “C’mon, Captain, we don’t need to take this.”

Joaquín rose an eyebrow at the young man. He could see out of the corner of his eye María watching him intently, but she had nothing to fear. “If you’re that confident in your skills…I don’t see what the problem is.” He waved a hand from his cadets to the women, silently telling them they were welcome to try. Joaquín then turned to walk over to Manolo, thinking that would be the best vantage to see the skirmish. He stopped when a cadet called him.

“You’re not going to do anything?” The young man asked, a growing look of disgust crossing his features. When Joaquín simply shook his head, the cadet called him out, “What? Are you afraid of two women? Is that is?”

He paused at that, turning his head to speak with his cadet. “No. I’m just smart enough to know when to pick my battles. You’re welcome to do what you wish.” Joaquín gave the shocked cadet a smirk before continuing on, joining Manolo just behind the barrier.

Manolo gave him a sidelong glance. “Are you really sure this is a good idea?” He could hear the apprehension in his friend’s voice, knowing that he was only worried about María’s safety. Joaquín could already tell that the guitarist was tense from watching the two women spar, and he couldn’t imagine it going from one opponent to a dozen.

“I’m not worried, I’ve seen her fight…and so have you.” He made sure to add, “Plus, she has a partner now. The only thing I’m concerned about it how badly they’re going to mangle my cadets.” Then again, it’ll teach them a valuable lesson…hopefully.

His cadets still seemed less than impressed with the two women. María had gotten herself into a fighting stance, the taller woman seemed to be sizing up the cadets. Neither group made a move, and the standoff was starting to wear on Joaquín and Manolo. The soldier was tempted to shout at the cadets to suck it up and make a move, but it seemed that someone else was on the same wavelength.

The taller woman grabbed something at her hip and drew her arm back – a long shining length of cord appeared from whatever was in her hand and she whirled it around a moment or two before snapping her arm forward and flicking her wrist. The tail of the cord whizzed through the air and wrapped itself around one of the cadet’s ankles, the woman gave a sharp yank to the cord, and the cadet’s foot flew out from under him and he landed on his back with a thud. The woman flicked her wrist again and the cord zipped back into the handle. She then took her own fighting stance, “Bring it.”

A moment passed before all hell broke loose. The cadets practically charged the two women, rushing into battle before they even truly knew what they were up against. The first two cadets that reached the women were quickly taken care of by María; she avoided the wide swing of one, blocking the other before tripping them both. The taller woman dodged a swing from one of the cadets, grabbing his wrist and twisting causing him to let go of his weapon, before using her other hand to push him a different direction and to the ground. María was already working on the next wave, blocking nearly every blow and connecting every one of her own. The taller woman took care of another cadet by grabbing his arm in one hand, his belt in the other, and using his own momentum to toss him over her shoulder.

She looked Manolo and Joaquín’s direction, before reaching her hand out to them in silent askance for something they had. They looked around, but found nothing but a spare broom propped up against the barrier. Without much thought, Joaquín grabbed the broom and tossed it to the woman, who grabbed it out of the air without fault and turned her attention towards the rest of the storming cadets. The woman and María got in close to one another, both starting to work together like a well oiled machine. Anything that María didn’t manage to block, the woman did and visa versa. The extra added range from the broom made it so that only one or two cadets at most were close to the women, and they were easily taken care of by María. One cadet actually thought he was being smart by weaving within and past the brooms supposed range, getting into the taller woman’s space…only to find himself with a face full of bristles as the woman made a quick snapping action with both hands on the broom.

The men watching from the sidelines were enraptured by the sight. Manolo had lost the tenseness he had earlier, starting to enjoy watching the display. Joaquín on the other hand…was beginning to feel less enthused about his young soldiers. There was no teamwork to be seen, there was no battle plan, and it was painfully obvious that they weren’t thinking _at all_. He had expected them to get their behinds handed to them, but not in such a fantastic way. Really, he should have known better. This was María he was talking about. All fire and action, that one; of course she would be able to take down every single one of his cadets almost single handed. Joaquín had been watching closely, María was truly doing most of the work, the other woman was merely offering support and back-up where needed…if those two could figure that much out, how come the cadets couldn’t?

Next to him, Manolo was all smiles and bright eyes. Joaquín knew well that the man loved to see his wife in action, much in the same way that he himself did. The soldier couldn’t keep the smile off his face seeing how confident and impressive María was. He tried to ignore the way his heart beat a little faster at the sight of her fighting. Tried to ignore the feelings he still harbored for his best friends wife – his best friend who was _standing right next to him_. And yet…he couldn’t bring himself to care. María was easily holding her own against his cadets, and Manolo was next to him, actually enjoying himself watching a fight. That was something Joaquín never thought he would have seen.

As the fight wound down, and the cadets stopped attempting to confront the woman, Joaquín put his head in his hands. He let out a heavy sigh, but there was a smirk tugging at his lips. Manolo gave his shoulder a squeeze, “Everything alright there, brother?” Without even looking, Joaquín could hear the smile in his voice, and it did something strange to his insides.

Shaking his head, he dropped his hands and let out a friendly huff. “I’ve just witnessed my entire cadet squadron get their asses kicked by your wife and her friend.” For a brief moment, he could see Manolo’s face start to fall, but Joaquín’s smile only grew. “I’d say everything’s working out well.” The guitarist seemed to perk back up at that, which was what he had been hoping for. He watched María looking pleased with herself, and his cadets picking themselves up off the ground, but it was short lived. One of the cadets was having trouble getting up, clutching one of his arms close to his chest. The woman - _what was her name?_ – was already crouched at his side, talking with him. He watched as she helped him up, looking more like she lifted him up than anything else, and led him over to the barrier.

He didn’t miss the look of concern that flashed across Manolo’s face, or the way that he tensed back up as the woman approached. Joaquín would ask him about it later, but right now he needed to find out what happened to his cadet. “What’s wrong?” Both men backed up as the woman urged the cadet to get onto the barrier and lie down.

The woman gave Joaquín an apologetic look, “I threw him a little too roughly and dislocated his shoulder.”

“You what?” Joaquín repeated dumbly. How was that even possible? Never in any of his training sessions, or the ones he gave his cadets, did it ever get so rough that someone’s _shoulder dislocated_. Then again, he’d never let them do as they pleased. This was an impromptu fighting simulation, but he couldn’t decide if it was a failure or a success. From what he could see of the cadets, most of them were huddled together on the other side of the training area, they had at least learned _some_ kind of lesson. María had since come over to see what was happening, leaning against the barrier closest to Manolo. The guitarist still seemed on edge about something; Joaquín could read the tenseness in his shoulders had gotten worse in the last few minutes.

“He’ll be fine,” The woman said, bracing one of her hands on the cadet’s side, the other wrapped around the wrist of his dislocated arm. “I just need to realign the bone into the socket…”

Joaquín decided he would leave her to it, unsettled that the woman didn’t appear concerned that she had caused the damage in the first place. He scooted over to María and Manolo, addressing María first. “You definitely taught my cadets a valuable lesson today.”

María beamed at him, “We sure did! Maybe now they’ll think before they speak.” Her smile was impish as she spoke, leaning against the barrier but keeping an eye on the cadets. “What are you gonna do with them now? They ‘lost’ the right to be here as it were.” 

Joaquín chuckled knowing Maria was always up for putting the young bucks in their place. She had certainly proved herself again today…maybe he would just turn them over to her, see what happened.

“I…hadn’t actually thought about it.” He looked back over briefly at the cadet that was getting his arm fixed. The woman appeared to be talking to him as a distraction as she reset his arm. It didn’t take long, but eventually there was a _crack_ as the joint was put back in its place. “Not sure what I can do with them now though.” He shrugged, turning his attention back to his friends. “I was hoping that I could wear them out fairly quickly…then maybe get some training in with you, if that’s alright.”

His friends both brightened up at that, Manolo only having to glace at María before speaking. “We would be honored.” Joaquín’s eyebrows rose at that, interested and curious at the ‘we’ part. The guitarist chuckled softly, averting his eyes. “María said that even though I’m not trained in fencing, I might still be able to help you.” The man offered the soldier a tentative smile, and Joaquín answered with a shining, broad one of his own.

“I don’t see why not.” He didn’t miss the way both his friends shifted excitedly, “But I need to do something about the cadets…” The young man who’d had his arm fixed had since trudged back to the rest of his squad, leaving the strange woman not far off from them. She cocked her head to the side, studying the cadets.

“Why don’t I take them off your hands?” She offered.

Joaquín gave the woman a suspicious look, glancing at his friends before walking over to her. “And what would you propose doing?” He asked slowly. The same pull at the back of his mind made itself know again, but he still couldn’t bring up the memory. Just a strange, uncomfortable feeling was the only thing he got from it. It didn’t help matters that she still had that scarf wrapped around the lower half of her face. People were only trying to hide something when they covered part of their face. This woman didn’t instill confidence in the soldier, and yet he was considering her offer to keep his cadets occupied for a while.

The woman’s eyes crinkled at the edges, “I was thinking they could use a good run…perhaps through the town, around the town, and then back through the town. That should be enough to wear them down, especially if they manage to keep up.” He eyed the woman again. _A run_? He wasn’t convinced that they would even do that, much less listen to her. She picked up on his apprehension. “Trust me, I’ve done this before.” When he still didn’t appear convinced, she rolled her eyes and continued. “If I have to, I’ll throw my weight around a little…I doubt they’ll hold out after that, and if they do, I’ll pull rank.” She shrugged, not having the kind of reservations he did.

_Pull rank? That was an interesting choice of phrase_ …After a few more minutes deliberation, he finally sighed, nodding his consent. “Fine.” He looked at his cadets, doing their best to seem uninterested in his conversation. “Just…don’t kill any of them.” He had meant it to sound like a joke, but his attempt didn’t sound convincing even to him. The woman didn’t seem bothered by it though, just rose an eyebrow in inquiry. Thinking that was it, he gave a final nod to the woman and began turning when she stopped him with a hand on his arm. He gave her a questioning look and he watched as her eyes darted to Manolo before returning to him.

“I’ve been meaning to speak with you about something.” She started, and judging from her tone, it was something serious. He made no move to head towards his friends so she continued. “You…are good friends with him, yes?” She asked in reference to Manolo. Joaquín nodded, but he didn’t know what that had to do with anything…what _Manolo_ had to do with anything that she could possibly speak to him about. “You might wish to keep an eye on him…they don’t always come back right.”

That…made no sense. “What?” _What was she talking about?_

Her brows furrowed at his response, “Your friend…he was resurrected, was he not?” Joaquín’s face went slack at that. How could she know that? She wasn’t there, and those that were didn’t talk about it. Anyone from outside the town would never know what really happened that day, _especially_ concerning Manolo.

“How?” The word was barely a whisper and he wondered if the sound reached beyond his own ears. She must have heard; Joaquín knew that he had given himself away because the woman’s features softened.

“He smells of grave dirt…all those who have do.” She raised her hands to him in a calming gesture, “It is very faint, which tells me that it was only once, and not for very long. Still…no one walks the path of death and comes back unchanged.”

Joaquín didn’t know how to respond. It didn’t help that he had tried his hardest to erase those two days from his mind. He could say, hands down, that those were the worst two days in his entire life. And here was this strange woman, telling him she knew that he had…that Manolo had died. It seemed insane to believe what she said about him smelling like dirt. That was beyond weird, but if she could see something that he didn’t; some kind of minute tell that he was missing, that would make more sense. It was the same way that Joaquín could tell the woman had some kind of military background when he saw her; it was written in her stance, the way she held herself and moved…and now confirmed by what she had said about rank. So if she could see something in Manolo that told her what had happened…and he was missing it? What kind of friend did that make him? Were there really signs that he hadn’t picked up on that said Manolo wasn’t alright? The flash of a previous thought struck him, the way that Manolo had been standing tense and slightly agitated earlier. It must be little things like that he hadn’t seen.

His mind raced trying to process this new information. Joaquín was only brought out of his thoughts when a hand squeezed his shoulder, bringing him back to the here and now. The woman was giving him a reassuring look, but he didn’t know what for. She gave him a gentle push in his friend’s direction, then turned her attention onto the cadets. He idly watched as she called out to them, getting them moving with little effort on her part. Maybe they had learned more than he thought.

Deciding not to dwell on if for the moment, he rejoined his friends, standing next to María on the inside of the barrier. “So…how about that training?” He looked between them expectantly. Joaquín knew his friends well enough that María would want first crack at him. Glancing at Manolo, he was pleased to see much of the tension had left the guitarist though he still didn’t look thrilled for whatever reason. He called Manolo’s attention, breaking the man out of his far-away look. “Everything alright, Manny?”

Manolo snapped out of his daze a looked at Joaquín. “Uh, yeah…I’m fine.”

Joaquín wasn’t convinced, turning his attention to María. She shrugged, “He’s been getting a strange feeling when K’tsal’s around.” _That’s what that woman’s name was!_ Manolo gave his wife a _look_ and she rolled her eyes in response. “What? Did you not want me to tell him?” Manolo merely waved them both off, reassuring them that everything was fine and they should start their training. Joaquín waited until they were out of earshot before he inquired again. María sighed, gripping her training sword and getting into a fighting stance. “He didn’t want to say anything because we _might_ think he was losing it. I told him he never had to worry about that with us.” She made the first move, lunging at Joaquín and forcing him on the defensive.

“Why would I think that anyway?” He must be missing something. Why would Manolo ever consider that Joaquín could think him crazy? The guitarist had mad intuition, and for the most part, he had always been right. So if he suspected something of someone, that probably meant it was true. But what was bothering him about that woman? She must have said or done something to make Manolo suspect her. Joaquín dodged Maria’s next attack and parried the next one, but barely. Trying to cover his slight blunder, he went on the offensive.

María blocked his attacks, before returning her own. “He saw something, but I haven’t gotten much more out of him than that.” Joaquín fumbled a block from one of her attacks and she took advantage of his opening, weaving around his sword and placing her own at his throat. He froze in place, thinking she could feel him swallow through the wood. He raised his eyebrows at her, but it was more in curiosity about what Manolo saw than the fact that he lost the match. María took a few steps back, as did Joaquín. He watched María glace at Manolo from the corner of her eye before she spoke. “He said that he saw her eyes and hair change color. But…I don’t see how that’s possible.”

_They don’t always come back right_ …that’s what that woman said. Could that be a side effect of him…dying? A flash of red eyes in the back of his mind made him pause. He’d seen red eyes before. Joaquín tried to bring the memory forward, but it slipped away again, but before it was lost completely, he saw another flash and confirmed that they were red snake/cats eyes. When he looked up at María, she was watching him, “Did he say what kind they were?” As soon as the question left his lips, he understood what Manolo was feeling. There was no way a sane person, or someone who hadn’t gone through what they did, would think the question normal.

She gave him a questioning look but didn’t comment on it. “No, just that they changed to red.” María dropped back into a stance, a grin creeping across her face. “C’mon, let’s really get this going.” Joaquín answered with a cocky grin of his own, getting into his own stance. For several minutes neither moved, sizing the other up and trying to predict what move the other was going to make. Joaquín had to admit, since the last time he’d trained with María he’d gotten better at not running into things. Maybe he was finally starting to adjust, but he liked to think that it was María that helped him. In a flash they were exchanging blows again. They fought in an intricate dance of flashing swords, and in María’s case, hands and feet. Joaquín still wasn’t accustomed to dueling with someone who used mixed styles to fight, but he was getting better at predicting where she was going to strike and attempt to dodge. Most of the time he failed miserably, ending up staggering back enough that she went in for the ‘kill’.

It was one such instance where she had managed to trip him up and then flip him onto his back, when she called him out. Joaquín lay on the ground for a second, staring up at the sky when she leaned over him. He couldn’t help but think she looked much like an angel with the sun at her back like a halo. The soldier had to blink a few times to realize that she was frowning at him. María offered him a hand and helped him up, but she still looked displeased. 

“What?” What had he done _this_ time? Normally she just yelled at him about his form or his footing, this…this looked different.

She smacked him in the arm with her sword, and he jerked from the sharpness of the blow. He inwardly sighed, knowing he’d be bruised tomorrow. “Stop pulling!” The sheer confusion must have shown of his face because she tried to hit him again, but he managed to avoid the attack…barely. “Stop pulling your blows! Don’t even try to deny it, I know you are!” María huffed at his bewildered appearance, though her features softened a little. “Joaquín, you’re not going to hurt me. I can handle anything you throw at me.” _  
_

_Oh, he hadn’t even realized he’d been doing that_. He knew, logically, that she was right. María had proven to him multiple times in the last several days that she could hold her own against him. However that didn’t make it any better. Joaquín knew that he also had to be stronger than her, even if that didn’t necessarily mean anything in a match. He could potentially hurt her severely, and that wasn’t a chance he was willing to take. Sure, he might get scolded again later, but he wasn’t going to go all out…it was just a bit of sparing after all. María gave him a warning look and he nodded his head. He’d kick it up a notch, but that was it.

They started again, and Joaquín received a smirk from María. She seemed pleased with his extra added effort, and she reacted accordingly. Her moves sped up, dodging and evading more of his attacks rather than trying to counter them. A handful of times he managed to knock her back a few steps, earning the advantage if only for a short time. Much to his surprise, his accuracy was already beginning to improve. His swings and lunges weren’t going quite so wide, but they were still off mark. It was improvement; that meant that there was still hope.

As much as he liked to deny it, Joaquín could be easily distracted. Especially by María. She moved with a certain grace that he had admired since they were little, and her being in Spain only refined it more. When he was starting to get frustrated at himself for missing a hit or not blocking correctly, María would simply smile and laugh it off. Joaquín knew it was a coping tactic to help him with reconditioning, to make light of a more serious undertone. He appreciated it nonetheless. 

At the same time, though, it was a lesson in pain, but not a physical kind. It was still painful, being around María at times. Now was one of those unfortunate reminders. As they sparred, he was still affected by her; her smile, her laugh, they way her eyes seemed to sparkle when they were in a particular lock or when she was flipping him end over end. It made his heart _ache_ , because he knew she wasn’t looking at him like a lover, but as a friend. She would only ever look at him like a friend. _It should be enough_ , he told himself, _it should be good enough that he was still her friend_. But that didn’t stop him from loving her. Joaquín didn’t know if that was even possible to stop.

And…why was he thinking about this now? He should be concentrated on the fight, not his feelings for María. **_  
_**

**_Yes, focus on the fight…only on fighting_** , the hissing voice returned. 

Joaquín mentally shook himself and forced the voice away. He needed to concentrate, but again, his attention was drawn elsewhere. He had nearly forgotten that Manolo was still there, watching them from behind the barrier. The guitarist had been watching them spar for who knows how long, but he had neglected to retrieve the guitar from his back. That told the soldier that he was enraptured with the match…or with watching his wife move. If it was the later, Joaquín didn’t blame him. He was almost certain that he could stand around watching María fight soldiers, or whatever, all day and never be bored.

But at second glance…Joaquín wasn’t sure who Manolo was following. It seemed odd that his friend would be paying attention to him when María was there too. At the same time though…his insides did a strange little flip that he couldn’t understand in the slightest. Maybe it was just because it had been so long since he’d been around his two best friends, he was still getting used to feeling like part of a close group again. 

What Joaquín had witnessed when he looked at Manolo however, wasn’t something he could readily explain. The man had an almost faraway look on his face, his lips curled into a goofy grin Joaquín had rarely seen. He was leaning against the barrier on his elbows, seemingly happy to just watch them. _Her_ , the soldier tried to remind himself. There was no reason for Manolo to be looking at him like that. That would be…weird. And yet, he had a strange feeling running through him; it wasn’t bad, but it was different.

**_They don’t care about you, you know_** …the hissing returned, trying to crowd to the front of his mind. **_They don’t care that they’re hurting you by being around, torturing you with their presence._**

Joaquín tried to shove the voice away, but it was more difficult than before. Instead he tried to focus on the match he was currently in with María. Joaquín was thinking that this should be their last one, give them a bit of a breather. **_  
_**

**_No, do not stop! It is a sign of weakness, you don’t want to be weak do you?_**

He tried to push back, but it was starting to creep into his conscious, and he was having an immensely hard time trying to concentrate. _N-no_? He thought back. No, he didn’t want to be weak, but what did that have to do with the match? **_  
_**

**_You know what else is weak? Love. The only feeling you need is hate. Hate is strong, it will make you stronger…_ **

No…no, that couldn’t be right. But at the moment he was having a hard time trying to sort out his thoughts. 

_It_ laughed, the sound more like pained wheezing than a true laugh. **_Don’t show weakness, finish the fight…finish HER_**. 

What? Finish…finish her? That didn’t sound right, Joaquín didn’t want to finish anyone, let alone María.

Something was wrong, he could feel himself slipping, but he couldn’t understand to where or how. He attempted again to push the _thing_ away, but he was having less and less success. **_  
_**

**_You have killer in you, I can see it._ Taste _it. You just need a push in the…right direction_**. 

It laughed, the sound a booming echo in his head and his vision started to black out. Distantly, he recognized his name being called, but couldn’t tell by who. _  
_

_It_ started to chant; **_kill kill Kill Kill KILL!_**

Joaquín tried to struggle, but he succumbed to the fight, praying to whatever deities would listen that he didn’t hurt María, or that something horrible happened.

* * *

Manolo relaxed against the barrier, watching María and Joaquín practice. He hadn’t been too happy that morning when his wife woke him up at dawn, saying that she was going to go train with someone. At his groggy askance, he learned that she was going to be meeting with K’tsal, and he protested, making his feelings on the woman known once again. María had rolled her eyes at him, and said that’s why she was dragging him with her, so that he could be there ‘just in case’. Really, Manolo knew that María was trying to prove a point, but he couldn’t shake the dread that had seeped into him and clung to his insides. It only intensified when they were walking to the soldier’s training area, mostly because he didn’t feel comfortable in such surroundings, even though María tried to assure him that there shouldn’t be anyone here for hours.

His gut had twisted when they had entered the area to see K’tsal was already there, that strange feeling hitting him again. Manolo couldn’t explain it, and he didn’t understand why it was so strong with her…but he had always been able to tell when there was something off with a person. Normally it was a slight feeling that told him to avoid a person or a place, but this was an intense feeling of _wrongness_. It didn’t help that he had seen her features change, but he couldn’t explain how, or why. The guitarist only knew what he saw, and what he _had_ seen was unnerving enough. María could protect herself, Manolo had never questioned that, but she also wasn’t helping herself to keep safe. That woman was bad news, he just couldn’t prove it yet.

Watching them train together…it was awful. Manolo was constantly on watch, ready to interfere if the sparring turned serious. Several times he had instinctively reached for one of the swords on his back, ready to jump over the wall when the larger woman had tripped or tossed María onto the ground, only to relax when María hopped right up and started again. Manolo was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t the whole K’tsal thing that worried him as much as María getting hurt in general. But a few things weren’t adding up in some of the matches. Several times, Manolo swore that María wasn’t hitting the ground nearly as hard as she should have been, almost like something had stopped her from hitting full force. Another time he thought that he saw María slow almost to a stop just before hitting the ground. The guitarist was beginning to think he was seeing things, because neither was possible.

He had figured that everything was over and done with when Joaquín and some of the newer soldiers showed up, but it was not to be. That woman wasn’t just someone to be wary of, she was a bad influence as well. How could they think they could take on an entire squadron of soldiers? Manolo was hoping that Joaquín would try and reason with the woman, or at least talk to his soldiers. Instead, Joaquín let them do as they pleased and joined him around the barrier. The guitarist voiced his concern, but Joaquín made a good point: María could handle herself in a fight and they both knew it. It wasn’t much longer before K’tsal started the fight, laying one of the cadets out flat with little effort. Manolo watched as the match derailed from there, turning into the cadets just trying to win ground against the woman…and they were _losing_. He knew his wife was good at what she did, but he hadn’t realized just how good she was. _Remind him to never get on María’s bad side_ …Next to him, Joaquín was clearly amused, if somewhat disappointed in the young soldier’s performance. _Well_ , Manolo thought idly, _if Joaquín didn’t seem concerned, he supposed there was nothing to worry about_. The guitarist pushed his reservations aside, and watched the sparing match for what it was. No longer worrying about if María was going to get hurt, it was still in the back of his mind, he started to smile. Manolo enjoyed watching María fight, and he could tell that she was having fun by the smile on her face. María always took the opportunity to humiliate the soldiers when she could.

Manolo thought it was strange when K’tsal looked at them and opened her hand like they had a weapon for her. Joaquín threw her a broom, but the guitarist didn’t know what good it would do the woman…until he saw how much mayhem could be caused with a simple broom. He flinched in sympathy at the cadet that ended up getting hit in the face with the bristly part, he knew from experience how much that hurt. 

The longer he watched the two women, the more he was entertained, but he still didn’t approve of María hanging around that woman. Yes, they seemed to be good sparring partners, but it was obvious to Manolo watching them that she could also do great damage. This was evident when she tossed one of the cadets around, and he landed in a heap not far away, and didn’t get up. Not soon after, the match ended with the women being victorious. Next to him, Joaquín had his head in his hands and Manolo asked if everything was alright. At his reply, Manolo felt a pang of guilt, but was quickly eased when the soldier continued.

María approached them, and so did K’tsal with the injured cadet. Manolo had been right that the woman could do damage, probably more so than just a dislocated shoulder. The three of them had a short conversation while the woman fixed the cadet’s shoulder. Manolo told Joaquín that they would be honored to help him out with his training, and he further told his friend that maybe he could help as well. Joaquín appeared more than happy to let Manolo help him, and a weight the guitarist didn’t know he had lifted. He was finally able to help his friend get back into fighting shape. _Maybe this is what K’tsal had meant before_.

He watched as Joaquín was pulled away by the woman, and they had a brief conversation. Now that the match was over, the uncomfortable feeling returned full force. Manolo wish he knew what about K’tsal was causing it, because he knew for sure now that it was her, and only her, that caused it. He was relieved when she put distance between them, before leaving altogether with the cadets in tow. His displeasure still must have shown, because Joaquín asked if everything was alright. Manolo gave a lame excuse, and María ratted him out a moment later. He gave his wife a disgruntled look, not wanting to share the information with Joaquín right away. But, it was out there now, nothing that could be done about that. The guitarist merely rolled his eyes and gestured with his hand to the middle of the training area, silently telling them to go have fun sparring.

Now that the strange woman was gone, Manolo could feel himself start to relax. He knew that there wasn’t anything to fear with Joaquín and María’s sparring, so he decided to enjoy the show. He didn’t blame the soldier for his hesitance about sparring with María, he was even worried the first time they squared off against each other several days ago. María had, as always, proved herself capable of taking care of herself. Knowing that no harm could come to her, Manolo took great pride in watching his wife move. She moved fluidly and with surety, wielding her sword like it was as easy as breathing. María had that natural warrior spirit, and he felt his heart swell watching her in her element. Manolo tried not to snort or laugh too loudly when she tripped Joaquín up, appearing to be playing with him.

Manolo rested his elbows on the barrier and leaned against it. María laughed as Joaquín stumbled around trying to regain his balance after she had kicked out one of his feet. The guitarist could appreciate the way that the two sparred; no one would have been able to tell that they hadn’t been apart for ten years. It didn’t _feel_ like they had been separated for ten years. He let out a contented sigh, feeling like things were starting to get back to normal. It was a little strange, the way they acted around each other sometimes. They were best friends, yes, but they were also family. Manolo wondered if that’s why he hadn’t noticed how much time had truly passed the last time he and Joaquín had seen each other. He had wracked his brain, but he couldn’t remember the last time he had interacted with the soldier before María came home. They all got on surprisingly well for being apart for so long…

He let his mind wander a little more watching his wife and best friend spar. María was just as beautiful as she always was, the sword in her hand only adding to her beauty. Her lithe figure was nimble, easily evading and dodging around Joaquín’s attacks. He could hear her musical laughter from where he was, and it made him smile. It was still sometimes a marvel to the guitarist that she chose him. His daze was slightly broken with María scolding Joaquín. Manolo somehow missed his friend getting laid out, but he assumed it was going to be a familiar sight. María helped Joaquín up with surprising ease, seems like his wife will continue to surprise him for a long, long time.

He was startled by the resounding crack of two practice swords meeting. _That must have been what she was yelling at him for_. He had been scolded several times by María already regarding her taking care of herself. Even when they were kids, she’d push them around a little and tell them she didn’t need their protection. Now that Joaquín wasn’t holding back, Manolo was fascinated by his movements. They weren’t as flowing as María’s, but they held more power. Someone didn’t get the kind of muscle Joaquín did without training and hard work. He remembered, a long time ago, watching his friend train with the other soldiers. He had been impressed with his best friend and how fearless and imposing he had been even then; granted he didn’t know about the medal, but still. He remembered the confidence he’d seen in his friend then, the same he saw now as Joaquín sparred with María. It was something he admired the soldier for, even now.

A vision flashed across his memory, and for a split second the world around him disappeared. He was in the bullring, but there wasn’t a crowd or his father. It was just him and Joaquín, and they looked like they were young teenagers. Manolo could feel his eyebrows furrow in confusion, because he didn’t remember ever hanging out with the soldier when they were that age. And they were…practicing, or maybe play fighting, the guitarist wasn’t sure. But they both had practice swords, and they were circling each other. Manolo was the first one to make a move, lunging at Joaquín, but the older boy was more experienced in sword fighting and easily tripped the younger up. Manolo staggered, before losing his balance and falling into Joaquín, the older boy easily catching him. And _good god_ , the thought popped into his head, he was shirtless. Manolo had the strangest sensation of being pressed against his friend, one hand braced on Joaquín’s chest – he could feel the warmth, and the beating of his friends heart – something trilled through his body from it. He had the distant feeling of embarrassment, he could feel his face flushing from it, but at the same time he felt giddy. He could hear them speaking to each other, but the words were garbled and sounded far away. The vision faded, bringing him back to the present. _What the hell was that?_ _That didn’t make any sense; he didn’t remember that happening, so what was it_? Manolo’s heart was thudding rapidly in his chest, and after a moment, he realized he was grinning like an idiot, _when had that happened_? He’d worry about it later, now was definitely not the time.

The guitarist turned his attention back to the match, but something was wrong. Joaquín had managed to get the upper hand, and was pushing María back. Normally, he wouldn’t have worried, but María’s laughter was gone and a concerned look had replaced her earlier cheer. Manolo heard her call Joaquín’s name several times, each time growing in urgency. Then, Joaquín brought his practice sword down sharply, and María dodged out of the way as the dirt from the arena flew up with the force of the impact.

“Manolo!” María cried, once again being put on the defensive by her opponent. Manolo didn’t waste a minute, vaulting over the barrier and running to María’s aid. He unsheathed his swords from his back and gracefully inserted himself into the fight. 

What he saw when he looked at his best friend startled him; Joaquín had a blank look on his face, and the white of his eye had turned green. He blocked an attack when Joaquín turned his sights on the guitarist, the force of the blow making him grunt. Manolo was able to deflect the blow, sending Joaquín back a couple of steps, but the soldier didn’t stop his advances.

“What happened?” Manolo spoke through clenched teeth as he and María worked together to fight off Joaquín. He shouldn’t have been surprised by how strong Joaquín was, but it was also obvious that he fighting full force. He didn’t know what they were going to do, but they were going to have difficulty doing it.

“I don’t know!” María evaded another attack and returned one of her own, but Joaquín easily blocked it. “Everything was fine, and then he just started trying to hit me. Like he was in an actual fight! Then I noticed his eyes start to turn green, and he wasn’t responding to his name.” María grunted when she blocked a particularly nasty blow from the soldier.

Manolo attempted to draw Joaquín’s attention to himself, if only to give María a bit of a breather. His plan wasn’t working out so well, it was like this Joaquín was inhuman with the way he continued to go after both of them with ease. “Well, how do we stop him?” He didn’t want to hurt his friend, there had to be something they could do without causing Joaquín injury.

María twirled around a hit, before striking at Joaquín which he blocked, but she was expecting him to. Her foot flew out and struck him in the gut, causing the taller man to stumble back. “I’m working on it.” Joaquín wasn’t stunned for long before he was striking full force at them again. Manolo could see María’s arms shaking from the force of blocking Joaquín’s blows…and he knew this man was his friend, but he _needed to be stopped_. Joaquín was striking and blocking like a superhuman, almost like he still had the medal. Which was impossible, Manolo had seen with his own eyes that Joaquín returned it to Xibalba. 

He should have been paying more attention to what the soldier was doing; he felt a sharp pain in his shoulder as Joaquín elbowed him roughly, then used the pommel of his practice sword to strike Manolo in the temple. The guitarist reeled for several moments, and collapsed down on a knee as he tried to stop his spinning and blurry vision. María cried his name before she was in front of him, fighting Joaquín back until he was on his feet again. It didn’t take Manolo much time to get back in the fight, but he still was unsteady on his feet from the blow to his head…but he needed to help, and he tried not to let the snarl on Joaquín’s face bother him. 

He heard María gasp, and his head whipped in her direction causing a wave of dizziness and slight nausea to hit him. “I think I have a plan…but I’m only going to get one shot at it. Distract him as best you can, I need _all_ of his attention on you!”

_Easier said than done_. Manolo wasn’t a great fencer, but he was a pretty damned good bullfighter, even if he’d never killed a bull. He nearly laughed hysterically inside his head as he was seriously going to compare Joaquín to a raging bull. Well, might as well try. “Hey! Fight me!” Manolo went on the offensive, using both his swords to swing at the soldier. The taller man easily blocked, starting to turn his attention onto him. _Good_. He made himself a target, dancing around his friend and trying to be as obnoxious as possible, and it was working. Joaquín eventually focused only on Manolo, María apparently forgotten. That being said, Manolo was now facing the full amount of his friends wrath, blocking blow after blow. The most recent one nearly threw him off balance, but he regained his footing just in time to block another strike. María better have a really good plan, because he was already starting to wear down. He could match Joaquín’s powerful attacks, but only for a short time; he wasn’t built for extended fights.

Manolo locked swords with Joaquín, and he could feel the taller man pressing him in the attempt to kill him. This wasn’t Joaquín, he had to remind himself, his best friend wouldn’t do this. Something had to be controlling him, it was the only explanation. The muscles in his arms started to protest against the force being placed upon them, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out. 

He saw María dart behind Joaquín, and they locked eyes, knowing that whatever she had planned she was ready. Using every bit of strength he had, he pushed back against Joaquín, causing the taller man to stumble back just enough that he was in range of María. Joaquín quickly regained his footing, and took a step forward when María struck. Manolo watched as she jumped up behind Joaquín and used the edge of her hand to strike Joaquín on the side of his neck near the base. The soldier took another step before his eye rolled back into his head and he slumped to the ground.

The guitarist let his arms fall to the side and he tried to calm his ragged breathing. Joaquín lay unmoving on the ground, and a thread of panic ran through Manolo. “Is…is he?” He didn’t finish, just let his voice tail off.

Breathing just as hard as Manolo was, María knelt down and placed trembling fingers against Joaquín’s neck. After a couple of seconds, her shoulder slumped with relief. “He’s fine. Just unconscious.” His wife then grabbed at Joaquín’s shoulder and pulled to turn him over onto his back. Both held their breath when he was face up, waiting for something to happen. Luckily for them, it was nothing.

Manolo knelt on the other side of Joaquín that his wife was on, looking solemnly at the soldier. If anyone else had looked at the man, they would have said he were sleeping, but the two knew better. Joaquín had been knocked out cold. Manolo sighed and looked his friend over. “What happened to you?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a feeling that poor Joaquin is gonna end up knocked out or unconscious at the end of every chapter from here on out /sigh. Also, if anyone sees something in here, like a headcannon, let me know so I can give appropriate credit.


	4. Where the Wild Roses Grow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! Hopefully this chapter was worth the wait.

Neither moved for several minutes; regaining their breath and waiting for the adrenalin to leave their systems. María chanced to open Joaquín’s eye to verify that what she had seen earlier wasn’t her imagination. He was still out, his eye rolled back in the socket and exposing most of the white in his eye…if it had been white. There, turning his eye a sickly green color were tendrils that looked like moving veins that crisscrossed across the orb.

“What _are those_?” Manolo murmured, his attention just as focused on Joaquín’s eye. They watched as the tendrils started to recede, the green going with it and turning its natural color. He gave María a worried look and she returned it.

She shook her head and let Joaquín’s eye close. “I don’t know, but I think we should find out…whatever it is, it’s bad.” Whatever was causing his eye discoloration, had to be connected to his previously odd behavior. _Let’s hope that he’s ok now_ …

Before the two could do anything else, the sound of fast, heavy footfalls echoed around the practice area. Someone flew around the edge of the barracks, skidding around the corner and running full tilt towards them. It was one of Joaquín’s cadets, and the look on his face gave the couple concern.

When he got closer to them, he shouted out, “Is he ok? Was he attacked too?” The cadet came to a stop near them, bending over and placing his hands on his knees while he gasped for breath.

The two shared a glance before Manolo answered. “Sort of. Why would you think he was attacked?” Questions flew through his mind, mostly involving why would someone want to attack Joaquín or the town. Something else that popped into his mind was _where are the other cadets_?

“Because there was an attack in the town,” the cadet wheezed, “An assassin held a woman hostage and demanded to see Captain Mondragón.”

“An assassin?” María gaped. What was an assassin doing here? And why would they want Joaquín. If there was an assassin running around San Ángel that was searching for Joaquín…then the last place they wanted to be was out in the open. Especially when said soldier was prone. Thinking quickly, María grabbed Joaquín under one arm and started to haul the man up; seeing what she was trying to do, Manolo mirrored her actions and working together the two got to their feet with Joaquín between them – Manolo taking more of the soldier’s weight. The closest shelter was the barracks, but going to the Posada home would be the better option, so the two started off in that direction. “What happened?” She grunted, shifting her half of Joaquín.

The cadet kept up with them, but offered no help. It was for the best, there was no way that either of them would relinquish hold on their friend. “When we were heading back, we heard a woman scream and then we saw a man with a dagger to her throat.” The young man kept up with the other two, keeping a worried eye on his Captain. “He demanded that Captain Mondragón show himself, or he would kill the woman…” The cadet trailed off, seemingly unwilling to continue.

María took pity on the young soldier, “What happened next?” She and Manolo steered their friend towards her old home. _Almost there_ …María knew that Joaquín had to be heavy, but lugging around dead weight that was mostly muscle wasn’t easy. She marveled for a second to think how she had effortlessly flipped him over her hip several times that morning and didn’t think twice about it. She heard her friend groan quietly, letting her know that he was starting to come back around.

“The…the soldier woman…she threw something at the captor. I don’t know what it was, but he screamed like he had been stabbed with a hot poker, and the woman went after him.” The cadet said, awe and fear coloring his voice. “The way she moved and attacked the guy…it was _inhuman_. I’d never seen anyone move that fast before.” The cadet was quiet for another moment before he continued. “She ordered us to get the townspeople to safety indoors…that she would take care of the assassin.”

María could see Manolo’s face change out of the corner of her eye. It was that pensive look he had adopted since K’tsal had come into town. She knew that he was bothered by the woman, and now she was starting to wonder if maybe there was a real reason for it. First Manolo had a bad feeling about her, and now this cadet seemed uneasy talking about the woman. _Something was going on here, and she was going to find out what_. “How did she know it was an assassin and not just a bandit?”

The cadet ran ahead and opened the door for the trio, Joaquín starting to come to as María and Manolo found a bench to put him on. The cadet stayed close to them, probably to make sure Joaquín was alright. “I don’t know…just said that he was…and once we were done to meet up in the barracks.”

“And where is she now?” Manolo asked, though his distaste for the woman shown through.

The cadet shuffled from foot to foot, almost appearing guilty. “I don’t know…we lost sight of her when she pursued the guy.” He looked at the captain with concern. “Are you sure he’s ok?”

María nodded, “We’ll keep an eye on him. Go ahead and wait for the rest of your squad.” The young soldier nodded and headed out of the home, leaving María and Manolo with an almost semi-conscious Joaquín. It was a wonder how easily they obeyed orders after one high stress event. She looked at her husband, but he appeared to be deep in thought, his features drawn. María decided it wasn’t a good look on him. “I know what you’re thinking…”

“Then you know what I’m going to say.” He replied, but he didn’t look at her. His focus was still on his best friend who was struggling to awaken.

María huffed, “I do. I’m not disagreeing with you that she’s dangerous…or something is off about her…” She looked down at Joaquín, more concerned with what was happening to the soldier than to worry about a strange woman who chased after assassins. “But…maybe she knows something about what’s happening to him.”

Manolo looked at her then, giving her a disapproving look. “María, for all you know, _she’s_ the reason he’s acting this way.” When she didn’t look convinced, he ploughed on. “He wasn’t acting strangely before she showed up. This didn’t happen the last time she was near him, but she didn’t _touch_ him then either. She _has_ to have something to do with this.”

“Ok then, how do you explain me, hmm?” María countered, “Nothing happened to me, and I’ve had more contact with her than Joaquín did.” He remained silent, but it was clear to María he was scrambling to come up with something. “Besides, his eye was glowing green, nothing about K’tsal screams green to me…but I know who does.” She waited for that to sink in.

It took a moment, but understanding flashed across Manolo’s features. “Xibalba…”

“Right, and from what you’ve told me about him, there’s no way he’s going to be willing to help.” María grumbled. Manolo had told her everything from the time that he had been in the Land of the Remembered. How Xibalba was the reason for him being sent there in the first place and about the wager. The god of death didn’t seem like the kind of deity to try and fix things after he had ruined them…he was more likely to sit back and watch the chaos.

“And you think talking to that woman is going to be any better?” He asked, letting his worry leak into his voice. Manolo just wanted María to be safe, and there wasn’t anything safe about that woman. _Why couldn’t she understand that he just wanted to protect her_?

“I think it’s a start.” It’s not like they could have anything less than no answers. And if what Manolo saw several days ago was him seeing a flash of what she really looked like, then it was clear to her that K’tsal wasn’t human, merely posing as one. However, that raised more questions; was she another god, or just _something_ _else_? Manolo had spoken about how Xibalba and La Muerte had disguised themselves as humans to walk among them. _So if K’tsal is taking a human form, then she has to know_ some _magic_. Yes, it was definitely a place to start…even if Manolo didn’t like the idea.

Manolo sat down next to Joaquín, feeling a wave of dizziness overtake him as well as the pounding in his head. As soon as he had placed his head in his hands, Joaquín jerked awake with a gasp. The guitarist pushed his own pain away and turned his attention on his friend.

“Ugh, what happened?” Joaquín asked, looking around in confusion. “Uh, guys? Why are we in the Posada house?”

Manolo and María shared a look. “You don’t remember?” Manolo asked, worry tingeing his tone.

Joaquín’s eye darted between the two a moment before he answered slowly, “The last thing I remember is sparring with María. And…and then my mind kinda went…blank.” The soldier’s eyebrows furrowed, seemingly in deep thought, but it morphed into confusion. “Did I pass out?”

“Something like that.” Manolo answered. He tried to turn his head to look at Joaquín, but he was struck by another dizzy spell and instead closed his eyes and dropped his head in a hand again. The pain came back full force, causing his skull to pound. _Guess Joaquín hit him harder than he thought_ …Without knowing it, he made a pained noise in his throat, causing María to crouch next to him.

Joaquin also took notice, leaning over to try and see Manolo’s face. “Hey, are you ok?”

“Manolo?” María asked softly, trying to get the guitarist to look at her. She could see out of the corner of her eye that Joaquín was growing more and more concerned for his friend.

“I’m fine…I’ll be fine.” Manolo murmured, once again waving off their concerns.

María didn’t buy it one bit, but it was obvious that he was going to be stubborn about it. She turned her attention back to Joaquín, thinking how best to explain to him what had happened without alarming him. She decided to go with a partial truth, because at the moment, it made the most sense. Getting Joaquín’s attention she spoke, “Actually, that’s my fault. I knocked you out by accident.” She smiled sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. “But you’re feeling alright? Nothing hurts?” María was worried that by knocking him out, she had really hurt him.

Joaquín shook his head, letting out a small huff, “Other than where you’ve already hit me? No.” He looked at Manolo sitting next to him, the man’s breathing stilted and shallow. “Are you sure you’re going to be alright, bro? You don’t look too good.”

Manolo nodded, but winced from the jolt of pain it shot through his head. “Yeah…but I think I’m going to head home…seems like all the excitement from today isn’t agreeing with me.” He reached out a hand to María and she latched on, helping him to stand. Manolo swayed a little, but seemed otherwise alright.

Joaquín looked like he was going to help steady his friend but something passed across his face and he jumped up from the bench, backing away from his friends. María could see that something wasn’t right, he was hiding something…especially since she saw a flash of fear when he jumped up. He spoke before she could say anything. “Hey, uh, I hope you feel better. Take care of him, María.”

The soldier then tried to make a speedy retreat, but he was stopped when María called after him. “Joaquín, hold on!” She made sure that Manolo would be alright on his own for a couple of minutes before rushing after Joaquín. “You need to know something before you go running off.” María didn’t miss the minute flinch in the man’s shoulders at her phrasing, but chose to ignore it for now. “You need to talk to your cadets; they’re meeting up in the barracks…there was an attack in the town while we were sparring. I thought you might want to know.”

His eye widened, and his posture straightened, easily slipping into his role as soldier and protector. “What happened? Was anybody injured?” He spoke in that even way that he did when he was trying to be overly formal, but María could hear the underlying fear. Joaquín wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if someone was harmed under his watch.

María shook her head. “I don’t know. You’ll have to talk to them to get more information.” Hopefully Joaquín would be able to get more out of his cadets after they’ve calmed down a bit. The one they had tried to talk to earlier seemed too shaken to really get his thoughts strait.

Joaquín nodded, before once again turning around and quickly making his way towards the door. When he was gone, María let out a heavy sigh. _Please be careful_ , she thought. She had already lost one man she was close to once, she couldn’t loose another. Even though she knew that Joaquin could handle himself in a scuffle, that didn’t stop her from worrying when he went off on patrols. He didn’t have the medal anymore; he wasn’t invincible. Joaquín coming back to them injured, or worse, was now a real possibility.

Shaking her head once again, she made her way back to Manolo, stepping in close to him and helping to support some of his weight. He groaned in pain when they stepped back outside into the light, and he brought one hand up to shield his eyes. He laughed softly, “Remind me to never get into a fight with him again…”

María was tempted to hit the back of his head, but thought better of it…she’d worry about beating him up later. “This isn’t something to joke about!” She felt a little better when he mumbled an apology. Joaquín wasn’t in control of himself, she knew that, but that didn’t help the fact that he had still harmed Manolo. She’d have to watch her husband closely to make sure he didn’t have a concussion. They needed to find out what had happened to Joaquín, and they needed to do it fast. Who knows if whatever happened to Joaquín was going to get worse or not. _But if it did_ , she thought to herself, _at least we now know a way to stop him without doing much harm_.

Manolo stumbled over a cobblestone, but María was there to help steady him. “Alright, you. Let’s get you home.” Her husband made a pitiful sound, but it was in agreement nonetheless. She’d ask what really happened once they were home.

* * *

Joaquín practically ran to the barracks. He didn’t know what was going on, and it wasn’t helping that his mind was playing tricks on him again. **_  
_**

**_She lies_** , _It_ had hissed in his mind when María had told him how he blacked out. **_  
_**

**_He tried to kill you, kill_ HIM**! _It_ had practically screamed when he had wanted to help Manolo steady himself. 

It had startled him so badly that he was practically tripping over himself to put distance between him and Manolo. _That isn’t right_! He didn’t want to hurt his friends, what was _wrong_ with him? He paused right outside the barracks door to collect himself. He leaned against the brick building and tried to calm his breathing. _Alright, Joaquín, focus_. He’d worry about the creepy voice in his head later, right now he had bigger problems to deal with…his own problems could wait.

Taking in another deep breath and letting it out slowly he squared his shoulders and pushed open the barracks door. His eye immediately landed on his entire squadron that seemed overly jumpy at his arrival. Letting the door close behind him, he spoke to them. “What happened?” His cadets were silent a moment before everyone started speaking at once. The cacophony made his ears ring and he called for silence. “One at a time, please!”

The cadets seemed to shrink back at his tone, and he noticed that they seemed more obedient than normal. The silence stretched on longer than Joaquín felt comfortable with, but eventually one of the cadets stepped forward. “There was an attack in the center of town…a woman was taken hostage by an assassin who demanded your presence.”

_An assassin? That was oddly specific_. “How did you know?”

The cadet that spoke looked around as his companions before speaking again. “The soldier woman said as much.”

_K’tsal_. “Where is she now? _What. Happened_?” Joaquín had never been one to raise his voice unless he had to. His cadets had learned early on that he didn’t need to shout to instill fear into them. Normally he would become overly calm, but his tone would change to something almost harsh as he spoke slowly and clearly. This was one of those times.

The young man that had been speaking seemed to cower in the face of his superior officer, and another cadet rushed to his aid. “She went after the assassin, Captain. She attacked him, and when he fled, she pursued.” The young soldier gulped when Joaquín turned his eye on him but continued. “We…we were coming back through the town when we heard a woman scream. We were passing the center of town, and the crowed backed up to show that the assassin held a woman captive – he had a knife to her throat. He demanded that you show up, or he was going to kill the woman.” He paused only to shift nervously, not looking Joaquín in the eye, “The…the soldier woman attacked him, and he didn’t stick around – he pushed the captive away and ran off. She ordered us to take care of the town’s people, make sure they were safe in buildings before coming back here to regroup…but she hasn’t come back.”

Joaquín said nothing, processing the information he had been given. So someone attacked the town looking for him…sadly, that wasn’t surprising. What bothered him, though, was that it was an assassin and not just some random bandit like he had run into before. But that didn’t make sense either. Why would an assassin be caught in broad daylight, taking a hostage, and making demands? Weren’t they supposed to be sneaky killers that attacked under the cover of darkness? Last time he checked, it was still the middle of the afternoon, and nowhere close to sunset. And if they were looking for him…why wouldn’t they just come after him to begin with? Something about this didn’t add up. Joaquín would have to do some investigation for himself. He debated taking his cadets with him, but they seemed shaken up enough about the whole ordeal…even though they themselves weren’t attacked. No, right now, he’d handle this himself. He could look for K’tsal while he was at it…he just hoped he found a live body rather than a still one.

He gave his cadets his attention. “What happened to the woman that was held hostage?” That should be his main priority, checking in with the woman who was attacked and making sure she was alright. He’d ask her what happened first, then branch off from her and start asking people in the area. Maybe someone knew who the assassin was, or where they were from.

One of the cadets in the back spoke up, “She should be in the church. That was the building I escorted her to. I doubt she would have left with the assassin still on the loose.”

Joaquín thanked his cadets for the information, told them to wait half an hour before letting the town’s people know it was safe - that should give him enough time to make sure - and dismissed them for the day. They spoke confidently of their skills, and walked around with pride, but it was now clear to Joaquín that they weren’t anywhere near ready for battle. He’d have to start taking them out on patrols and showing them what they would have to face in the coming years.

He walked briskly to the church, his eye darting about his surroundings in case the assassin finally decided to come after him. It was unnaturally quiet for the time of day, but with everyone locked away in their homes, it was to be expected. At least he didn’t have to worry about anyone else getting hurt. While his trek was unnerving, it was also uneventful, and he made it to the church with no incident. Joaquín stopped in his tracks once the church came into view; there was someone crouched out in front of it, their back to him. The soldier was about to draw one of his swords, but the long black braid stopped him. He let out a sigh of relief, _at least he didn’t have to worry about_ that _anymore_.

Joaquín couldn’t see much, but it looked like K’tsal was doing something with the ground. He walked over cautiously, making sure not to walk up directly behind her. As the soldier rounded to the side of the woman, he could see that she was scraping some stained earth into a small glass vial. She made a low sound in her throat that sounded a bit like a growl to him. She glanced his way before corking the vial and slipping it into the pouch at her hip. “I’m glad to see they didn’t get you.”

Wait, _they?_ He blinked at the woman, “There was more than one?”

“Aye…” She murmured, standing up and brushing the dirt from her pants. “A two man team. One was a distraction while the other waited to strike had you shown up.” K’tsal sneered, revealing white teeth.

Well that explained why an assassin would reveal himself in such a blatant way. His brain stopped for a second. _Teeth_? He hadn’t noticed before, but the scarf that she typically wore around the lower part of her face was now wrapped tightly around her neck, revealing her face. Another moment passed before he took in her slightly haggard appearance: her shirt was ripped in several places, she was covered in dust, and she had a fresh cut on her right cheek. Joaquín also noticed the large, spiral scar under her left eye that covered most of her cheek…it looked like it had been gouged into the skin with a jagged rock, rather from tooled weaponry. _Perhaps it was the scar that she was trying to hide, rather than her face_ …which drew his attention back to the scarf around her neck. She had tied it so that the knot was on the left side, but it was dark and discolored in that area – the normal light brown of the material had been stained a dark reddish brown, and it caused Joaquín’s stomach to churn. Blood. He tried not to shiver; he didn’t like the sight of blood. It was ridiculous, being a soldier, but he had _never_ liked the sight of blood, be it his own or another’s.

His attention was gratefully pulled away from the blood soaked scarf when she pulled out a piece of material from her pouch. “Do you recognize this symbol?” K’tsal asked, offering him the tattered cloth.

Joaquín looked it over, turning it around until the picture was facing the correct direction. On the dull piece of fabric was a picture of a crooked dagger with a rose wrapped around it. He squinted at the rose, another pattern revealing itself to be a skull in the heart of the rose. The soldier wracked his brain, but he couldn’t remember seeing the symbol before, even on his trips. Shaking his head, he handed the cloth back to K’tsal. “I don’t remember seeing it, no.”

She made another low sound in her throat, reaching up to close his hand around the cloth. “Keep it. You may need it.” The woman made a quick glance towards the church. “You are here to check on the woman who was attacked, yes?” She received a nod from Joaquín, “She’s still inside. I told her to stay in there until either I or you returned.”

“Is she alright?” Joaquín asked, feeling slightly anxious without having an answer.

K’tsal thought a moment, her head cocking to the side. “She appears fine, just a small scratch where he held a dagger to her. And before you ask, no. I didn’t catch them, but I managed to run them off for now. If they come back…” She gave a wicked smile that was more a bearing of teeth, “I’ll be waiting.” She nodded her head towards the doors of the church, silently telling him to go ahead.

Joaquín didn’t need any more prodding and was opening the door before he even realized he’d made the distance. Thinking that he should thank her, the soldier turned around, but found no one. He turned his head to the side, making sure she wasn’t in his blind spot, but the woman had disappeared. 

Thinking nothing of it, he entered the church and searched out the town’s people who had taken shelter there. Amongst several lone people scattered around, there was a larger group sitting near the front of the pews. The sisters were surrounding a young woman, appearing to be speaking soft comforts to her. Joaquín assumed that that was the woman who had been attacked. He walked over slowly, the sisters looking up at him as he approached, before moving to the side so he could talk to the woman. He plastered a smile on his face and turned to talk to-

Elísa.

Joaquín blinked, surprised to find that _she_ was the one who was attacked. _Trouble seems to follow the poor girl_. She was practically curled into herself, and he felt a pang of sympathy for her. He nodded to the sisters, silently telling them he would take care of this. They began to mill about the church, checking on the other people taking refuge here. Joaquín sat down next to the woman, but she didn’t respond. The soldier spoke softly then, “Elísa?”

That seemed to bring her around. She uncurled a little, looking around before spotting him. A few seconds later, her eyes seemed to clear with recognition. “Joaquín?” Elísa blinked a few more times, reaching up to rub at red and puffy eyes.

_She must have been crying_ , he thought to himself. Joaquín didn’t blame her, it was an incredibly stressful situation she had found herself in; it had to have been terrifying. “Are you alright?” She sniffed lightly, but nodded, averting her eyes and wrapping her arms around herself. He shifted awkwardly, _why did he have to be so bad at comforting people_? Joaquín didn’t want to overstep his boundaries by putting a hand on her back, but he also felt terrible for her. He decided on the safe rout and did nothing, “Can, uh…can you tell me what happened?”

Elísa took a shaky breath, nodding slowly again. “I was visiting the market, and I…I didn’t hear him come up behind me. He grabbed me, and held me to him, putting a large knife to my neck.” She breathed deeply, and let it out slowly. She clenched at her sleeves, her knuckles practically white. “I screamed. He told me to keep quiet, or he’d…he’d slit my throat. I was lucky enough that your soldiers were there, I’m pretty sure he would have killed me if they hadn’t shown up.” 

Elísa shook her head, as if expelling the thought before she continued. “He demanded to see you. But you weren’t with them.” She looked at Joaquín then, her eyes shining with fresh tears. “The…the tall soldier, with the strange clothes…demanded he let me go. When he didn’t, they threw something at him, and he screamed…he let me go enough that I dropped to the ground.” Elísa averted her eyes again, “I remember hearing a scuffle…and two of your soldiers helping me up and into the church…but nothing else.”

She tried to curl into herself again, but she was stopped when Joaquín reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine.” He said softly, “That’s enough.” Joaquín looked closely, seeing a faint red line on the side of her neck. _That must have been where he held the dagger_. He was glad to see that she was doing reasonably well, considering what happened…it sounded like it could have been much worse. He still needed to talk to the other town’s people in the church to get their statements, but he had already made his mind up that he was going to walk her home. It was the least he could do after what happened, since he wasn’t there to stop it and Elísa got caught in the crossfire. “I need to talk to some of the other people here and find out what they saw…will you be alright by yourself here for a little while?”

Receiving a nod in response, Joaquín stood and started his questioning of the other residents in the church. Much of what they told him, he had already gathered from his cadets and Elísa; there was an assassin that took a woman hostage, demanded to see Joaquín, and then was subsequently attacked and run off by the mysterious soldier with the cadets. A couple had mentioned how quickly the soldier moved and handled the situation, and none had mentioned seeing another attacker. When asked about the symbol on the cloth, all of the citizens of San Ángel replied they have never seen it. That left asking Elísa about it. Joaquín decided to worry about that once they were headed on their way. He made sure to tell everyone in the church that it was safe to go about their business, and they were free to leave the church.

Joaquín returned to Elísa, helping her stand up and accompanying her out of the church. He noticed this time he offered her his arm, she grasped it like a lifeline, and he easily helped support her weight. While walking through the town, he was glad to see that the streets had become busy again; his cadets must have made the rounds quickly letting people know it was safe to go out again.

The two were silent, and Joaquín was starting to become bothered by the silence. He cleared his throat, drawing Elísa’s attention. “I uh, I know you’ve been through a lot today already, but would you mind telling me if you’ve seen this before?” Joaquín pulled the tattered fabric out of his pocket and showed it to the woman. He felt her go rigid next to him and stopped dead. Her breathing became shallow and quick, her eyes taking a far-away look. The soldier became increasingly worried for her the longer she didn’t respond. “Elísa?”

She seemed to snap out of it when he called her name. Elísa looked at him with wide eyes, before looking away in embarrassment. “S-sorry…It’s just…” She sighed, one hand going to rub at her eyes. “It’s the mark of the Whispering Sands…I’ve been on the run from them for while now…” Elísa averted her gaze, looking at the ground. “I had hoped that I was safe from them, but I was wrong.”

He watched her carefully, mentally throwing questions around. Joaquín was quiet a little longer, urging them to continue walking. “Who are they, and why are they after you?”

“From what I’ve been able to gather, they’re a band of trained killers and thieves. And they’re after me because…because…” She trailed off, her grip on his arm tightening. She calmed down a little when Joaquín placed a hand over hers. Elísa took a deep breath and spoke again, her voice shaking. “Their leader is known for…getting close to young women and then killing them for fun. I was nearly one of his victims.”

Joaquín gave her hand a squeeze. He couldn’t even imagine what she had gone through, and he couldn’t fathom what she was going through now. The thought of finally being safe from the past, only for it to come back and bite you, must be devastating. The soldier felt a pang of sympathy for Elísa, no one deserved to go through something like that. Joaquín almost felt bad for asking, but he had to know. “What happened?”

She was quiet for a moment. “He didn’t… _do_ anything, if that’s what you’re asking. It never got that far. When I met him, he seemed perfectly charming…if only I had known…” Elísa reached up to wipe away fresh tears, “He tried to kill me, hit me over the head with something and left me for dead. He must have found out that I had survived, and rather than let me live my life, decided that he couldn’t ruin his perfect reputation.” The smile on her face was bitter, “After the first attack he sent, I left town, and have been traveling ever since.”

“I’m sorry.” Was the only thing he could think of to say. “Did you stay with any family along the way?”

Elísa shook her head. “No, the only family I had was my father and brother, but they were killed in the war.” His face fell at that, at a complete loss of words, but she gave his arm a reassuring pat. “It’s alright, you didn’t know.”

Joaquín nodded in response. While she had been talking, they had made their way to the local inn where she had been staying. They stopped in front of the building, and he seemed to straighten his posture. He thought briefly to himself before coming to a decision. “As long as you’re here, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.”

She smiled at that, a real smile, and it put him at ease. “I believe you.” She gave his arm a light squeeze before untangling herself from him. The heavy air that seemed to surround them lifted, along with the young woman’s mood. Elísa appeared to be thinking something over. “If…if you’re not too busy…would you mind taking a walk with me later? Or, when you’re free of course. I know that being town hero is a full time job and all, but you must get free time right? And-” She groaned, turning her gaze to the ground. “I’m doing it again…”

Joaquín chuckled, pleased that she seemed to be alright now and acting more like herself. He could tell she was watching him out of the corner of her eye, “I think I can manage that.”

Elísa nodded, a smile pulling at her lips, but she kept her head down. Her eyes looked a little brighter now as she looked up at him, and he thought that was a good sign. “Thank you. See you around sunset.” She gave him another nod before she disappeared into the inn.

Joaquín stood there for several moments, thinking about what he just agreed to. It suddenly hit him what it was, and he felt his face heat. _He really needed to think before he spoke sometimes_. But…it was just a walk. Taking a walk through the town didn’t mean much, right? He supposed he’d worry about it when the time came; right now he had research to do, and people to question about this…Whispering Sands.

* * *

Manolo felt that sensation of falling before jerking awake, gasping for air and clutching his side as he sat up in his bed. A second later, he groaned and leaned over his lap, clutching his pounding head in his hands. When the pain and dizziness had passed, he leapt out of bed and went over to the full length mirror in the room, pulling up his sleeping shirt and running fingers delicately over the scar on his side. He could still feel the dull ache from the wound like it had just happened. _What was happening_? Manolo had had a dream…but it had felt more like the vision from that morning. This time it had been sharper, crystal clear like he had been there seeing it happen.

He heard the rustling of clothing behind him, and he turned to find María sitting in a chair next to the bed. She was watching him curiously, an open book in her hands. “Is everything alright?” María placed the book aside, standing and making her way over to Manolo. “How are you feeling?” She reached up and gently ran the back of her knuckles against his temple where a bruise had already formed.

The coolness of her hands felt wonderful against his skin, and he leaned into her touch. “It hurts, but I’m sure it will pass.” Manolo closed his eyes as she ran her hand through his hair. He was distracted until he felt her cold hand against his side, and he jumped at the contact.

“What was this about?” María ran her fingertips over the scar on his side, causing a shiver to run through her husband.

He opened his mouth to say that it was nothing, but thought better of it. Manolo sighed and turned back to the mirror, looking at the scar. “Remember when you asked me how this happened, and I said that I couldn’t remember?” María nodded, continuing to watch her husband curiously. “I had assumed that I had been knocked out and couldn’t remember because I hit my head or something when it happened.” He paused, running through the dream again, trying to piece together the puzzle. “But…I don’t think that’s what happened.”

María was watching him closely now, “What do you mean?”

Manolo wasn’t sure how to explain it himself. “I’m not sure…It’s almost like I’ve _forgotten_ things. And I’ve only had two visions, but if it becomes a pattern- ”

“Visions?” María cut him off, crossing her arms across her chest and cocking her hip to the side. “What does that mean? When were you going to tell me about this?”

He felt his face heat at the questions, “I-I’m telling you now?” He started, but the growing scowl on her face made him stumble over his answer. “This is only the second one I’ve had! The first was when I was watching you and Joaquín spar earlier.”

She sighed, the scowl falling off her face to be replaced by a look of concern. “Why do you think they’re visions, and not just dreams?”

“Well, for one I was awake for the first…” He mumbled, shifting his weight. “And they’re too…clear, _too real_ to be dreams I think. It felt like I was there, like it really happened to me.”

María hummed in response. She then wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into him, and Manolo wrapped his arms around her in response, holding her close. “What did you see?”

He was quiet for a while before answering, “The first one was…I don’t know how long ago, maybe mid teens? But it was Joaquín and I in the bullring, and we were sparring. I wasn’t very good.” He chuckled softly, and he could feel Maria’s smile through his thin shirt. “The second one…it was when I got the scar. I had misjudged how close the bull was going to come to me, and I got…stabbed. Luckily for me it was little worse than a glancing blow, but I was still out of training for over a week.” He decided to leave out the part where Joaquín had snuck into his room to check on him, and make him laugh hard enough that his side ached from the pressure and threatened to pop his stitches.

“And you think these are memories?”

“I don’t know, maybe? Like I said, they seem too real to be dreams…and it doesn’t make sense that, if it were a dream, why it happened while I was awake.” He shrugged, “But it does make me wonder what else I’ve forgotten.” That didn’t make much sense either, though. These wouldn’t be things he would forget, not purposefully at least. Maybe some of his training sessions had been rougher than he remembered, and that’s what caused it? It was possible, but it just didn’t sound right.

María was quiet, and when he looked down at her, her brows were knitted in thought. “Maybe we should test out that theory.” She looked up at him then, eyes wide and curious, with a hint of playfulness. “I can ask you questions, and maybe we can narrow down where the gaps are.”

_This could either go very well for him or very badly_. “Alright, we can try that.”

She pulled away from him, walking around the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. She tilted her head in thought, trying to think of a good first question. “Who…was your first kiss?” María asked, her smile playful and teasing.

“Of all the questions you could have asked, that’s the one you go with?” Manolo asked, trying hard not to squirm under her gaze. He could feel his face heating the longer she watched him, and he didn’t understand the reaction. It was a simple question that required a simple answer. _Maybe it was because it was a trick question_? Manolo sighed and leaned against the wall, “You already know that answer, thanks to that stunt you pulled when we were kids.”

María rolled her eyes, “Not _that_. Besides, that doesn’t count, and you know it.” She rose a brow at him, patiently waiting for him to answer her.

Manolo fidgeted under her gaze. He knew it couldn’t have been that simple. He tried to think, but came up with nothing. _That wasn’t right_ …He wracked his brain for anything, his confusion twisting his features. “I…I don’t know.”

“You didn’t know them?” María offered.

“No. I mean, _I don’t know_. I _can’t remember_.” He reached up and rubbed his temples, hoping it would help him find the answer, but nothing came to him. Manolo looked at the floor, his gaze threatening to burn a hole through the wood with the strength of it. “Try another.”

María was giving him a concerned look. She shifted herself on the edge of the bed. “Ok…how about…oh! Ok, who did you bounce song ideas off of?”

Manolo opened his mouth to answer, but he realized he had no idea. Whatever he was about to say slipped from his mind and remained hidden somewhere. He shook his head in the negative.

“Did you talk to anyone about your training? Other than your family, of course.” She tried again.

He thought hard on that one, but came up with nothing. “I can’t remember.” _This couldn’t be right_. He didn’t like talking about his training, true, but something tickling the back of his mind told him he _did_ talk to someone about it…he just couldn’t remember _who_.

She tried asking several more questions with the same result. Who did you talk to most? Where did you go, who did you see when things weren’t going well? Are there any more unexplained scars? All were met with either a vague impression or no answer at all.

Manolo was becoming more frustrated, and eventually held up his hand to stop her. “This…this isn’t helping.” He knew she was only trying to help, but he didn’t even know how he was missing parts of his life to begin with. They needed to figure that out first before they could go about fixing it. “I think we’ve established that I have…memory gaps. Maybe if I keep having visions, we can figure out what happened.” He pushed himself off the wall and joined her on the edge of the bed. “It’s not _that_ bad…”

“It’s bad enough.” María huffed, leaning against her husband. “We’re going to find out why this is happening.” She then perked up, reaching behind her and grabbing the book she had been reading earlier. “Hey! Maybe this can help.”

“What is it?” Manolo asked, looking down at the book in her hands. It was very old looking, and appeared well worn. Whatever this book was, it had been well used for a long time. Something about the book pulled at him, and he leaned a little into María to get a better look.

“Well it’s a book,” she started, getting an eye roll from Manolo. “I’ve actually been doing research into what might be happening to Joaquín.” She flipped through a few pages, going back to the beginning of the chapter.

He squinted at the text, “ _The possible complications of using dark magic and implements of_ …I don’t think I understand. Where did you get this book?” Manolo asked, reading a little of the page below the chapter heading. He had a feeling he knew where she had gotten it, and he almost didn’t want to hear the answer. The guitarist knew for sure she didn’t get it at the local library.

María was quiet for a moment, and Manolo gave her _the look_. She sighed, “I got it from K’tsal. I know,” she said hurriedly, seeing his expression sour, “You didn’t want me going to her, but I think I’m on to something here…this could really help Joaquín, and it might be able to help you too.”

He huffed, Manolo had figured out who she had talked to for himself. “When did you see her?”

She fidgeted only slightly, but Manolo could still feel it. “When you were sleeping…I found her on top of the church, and we had a conversation…she let me borrow her book.” María played with the top corner of one of the pages. “We can rule her out as a god, but I still don’t know what she is.”

Next to her Manolo snorted, “That’s too bad…I was hoping she would burst into flames if she went near it.”

“Manolo!” María scolded, slapping him on the arm.

He chuckled, gesturing back to the book. _If it helps, maybe he could let it slide_ … “What does it say?”

She flipped through a few more pages. “I think he might be suffering from dark magic poisoning.” María started, seeming to search for a specific page. “Where is that…ah! Here it is…this section talks about what happens to a person without magical abilities when they come into contact with a magical item.” She pointed to a paragraph with an image of a medallion. “Basically what happens, is when there’s no magical source for the object to latch onto, it latches onto that person instead…almost like it feeds of their life force. Signs of poisoning can manifest while the wearer still has the object, but typically aren’t harmful if only used for a short time. When used for extended periods, poisoning will infect the wearer, causing slightly altered behavior and possible appearance. When the object is removed or destroyed, it’s presence stays with the wielder…” María trailed off, her eyes roving over the pages. “Oh no…”

It already sounded like bad news to Manolo, and that just solidified the awful feeling in his gut. He was still trying to understand that she was getting information about magic, apparently _bad_ magic, from a book. Much less a book from a person he still didn’t know if they could trust or not. “Oh no, what?”

She continued to read, her shoulders eventually slumping. “If the wearer becomes severely poisoned, they are at threat of losing their sanity…often times having radical changes in behavior, thought process, and interactions with those around them. Dark magic poisoning will pass, but it is a slow and torturous process; most suffering from it don’t live long enough to completely expel the influence of the object. Onset of poisoning can show at anytime while the object is in a person’s possession, the severe side effects after being separated from the object normally manifest several days to a week after. Poisoning tends to be worse the longer an object is held…” María stopped after that, thinking that was more than enough for the moment. “Do you know how long he had that medal?”

Manolo sat quietly, trying to process everything. “He got it right before you went to Spain.” He remembered what he had heard the gods of death arguing about, how Xibalba had given the medal to Joaquín to help the god win the bet. At her look, he added, “I didn’t know about it then, only after…everything happened.”

María shook her head, cursing softly under her breath. “From what I’m reading here, the longer he had it, the longer it will take for him to get better. But it also says that the longer he’s under the influence of the poisoning, the worse he gets…this is like a lose, lose situation.” She dropped her head into her hand that wasn’t holding the book.

“Does it say anything about a cure? Or how to fix it?” Manolo wondered out loud. There had to be a way to help Joaquín…they couldn’t just let their friend slip into insanity fighting off some…supernatural force because of a medal.

She flipped through a few pages halfheartedly before coming to something of interest. “Wait, here’s something…it’s more about how a person’s mind is affected by the object. Depending on where the object is held or placed, depends on how the bearer will suffer. There will always be a mark on the skin where the object rested.” She read a little bit further, her features falling the longer she read. “There isn’t a cure. At least, not a known one. It says here that having the person in contact with something of…light magic can help, but not stop the effects. The best we can do is help him through it, and hope something bad doesn’t happen.”

_And they didn’t have anything with_ any _kind of magic, let along light magic_ , he thought bitterly. Things had seemed so simple not too long ago, before María came back…not that he wasn’t happy that she was back or anything like that, but…there wasn’t anything magical in his life then. He didn’t know about the medal of everlasting life, he didn’t know that the old gods still existed to bet on the lives of children, and he didn’t know magic even _existed_. But now that he had died and come back…it seemed that it was everywhere, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. “Alright, then we’ll just have to keep an eye on him. At least you know how to stop him if he…losses himself again.” _Which will probably be easier said than done_.

María smiled and nodded, “That’s exactly what we’ll do. Whether he likes it or not.” She closed the book, seeming to be debating opening it back up. “Did you want to try looking for an answer to your missing memories?”

Manolo stared at the book; it appeared to be _shrinking_ , the pages thinning until the hard covers were practically touching. _Of course_ , he thought, _leave it to María to be given a magical book about_ magic. He shook his head. “Not at the moment. I think what I have is pretty minor compared to what Joaquín’s going through.” Manolo stopped and covered a yawn, suddenly feeling exhausted. “I’ll look through it later.” He smiled at María and fell back on the bed, closing his eyes, but he was interrupted when one of his eyes was forcefully opened. Maria was hovering over him, looking intently into his opened eye. “Wha?” Manolo nearly whined.

“Just making sure you don’t have a concussion.” She said simply, letting his eye close before opening the other.

“María…” This time he did whine. He couldn’t explain why he was suddenly so tired, but it might have been that the pounding in his head had gotten worse again. _Sleep…sleep fixes everything_.

She huffed, but there was a laugh at the edge of it. “Excuse me for caring about your health…” After another moment she let his eye fall closed and he hummed in appreciation. “Go ahead and nap…I’ll be here to wake you again in half an hour.”

Manolo groaned in protest, sliding up the bed and grabbing a pillow to hide his head under. Trying to sleep but being woken up every half hour was near torture for someone like him…not that he wasn’t used to that kind of treatment. Many times when he was younger and ended up knocked out because of a bull, his father would do the same thing to make sure he was alright. And he knew that María loved him and only wanted to keep him safe, but right at the moment…he just wanted the pain to stop.

He heard María laugh quietly, before he felt her hand trail from his middle back to his shoulder. “Sleep well, husband.” Manolo relaxed at her touch and before long, he was sound asleep.

* * *

Joaquín still wasn’t sure what to make of Elísa. Their walk went as expected; he felt somewhat awkward at first, but after talking with her a while he relaxed. She seemed to be doing much better after what had happened to her that afternoon, and neither of them talked about it. They spoke of inconsequential things, making small talk to pass the time. 

She asked him to tell her about his adventures around México, and he happily spoke of his heroics. In turn, he prodded her a little more, asking about where she was raised and about her family. He already knew she didn’t have any family left, her mother dieing when she was very young and her father and brother passing away in the war, but he was hoping she had some good stories. She did, but not many. Joaquín did his best to cheer her up afterwards, telling her funny stories about the troops he’d spent time with, and occasionally a tale about when he was a child playing with Manolo and María.

After several hours, he returned her to the inn she was staying at. He fumbled out a goodnight, which she had giggled at, but that didn’t make him feel any less awkward. Once again, he had made to leave but she stopped him, pulling him down far enough so she could place a soft kiss on his cheek. She had disappeared into the inn after that, once again leaving him standing in slight confusion as to what had just happened. 

Elísa wasn’t acting quite as shy as she had the first time they had met, even going as far as to slip her hand in his during their walk. Other than giving her a curious look, he didn’t mention it. Maybe she just needed someone to comfort her after her ordeal. _That must have been it_ , he thought, _just another thank you like the other one_.

The days passed, eventually becoming weeks. His time was split between training his troops, training with María and Manolo, and spending time with Elísa. He hadn’t thought much of Elísa at first, but then they kept running into each other around the town. She even came by once to watch him train with his friends, though she did make a few off colored comments regarding María and her swordplay. Joaquín smoothed it over though, at least he thought he did. María didn’t mention it again, and whatever hostility she had towards Elísa wasn’t outwardly showing anymore.

Joaquín had started to question himself after a while. He did spend an awful lot of time with Elísa, to the point that he rarely saw María and Manolo…but that was attributed to something else. Their training sessions were now few and far between, more of his time dedicated to the troops and avoiding them. Elísa was easy to be with, he had learned, he didn’t have to be ‘the town hero’ all the time. Plus with the two attacks that had happened since the first, it helped that he was near her to better protect her. He still hadn’t gathered a whole lot of information about the group, but enough to know they always held one hell of a grudge, and their leader was known as the Wild Rose. 

He was also starting to wonder what K’tsal was really doing in town. It was suspicious, that the mysterious soldier woman only showed up after the assassin attacks, but he never got a chance to confront her about it…she was always gone nearly as soon as she showed up. Presumably, she was either chasing off the assassins or hunting them down. He was beginning to think that Manolo’s intuition about her was right; attacks like these hadn’t started happening until K’tsal had come around.

It was after one such attack, Joaquín had managed to spoil the assassin’s plans again to get to Elísa, that the adrenalin must have been running high. It certainly had been for him, he had nearly gotten himself stabbed. There had only been the one, and Joaquín had managed to get a few good hits in, before the assassin retreated, having lost the element of surprise. He failed to notice that K’tsal was nowhere to be seen this time. He had turned to ask if Elísa was alright, but she was looking at him wide eyed. Before he could ask what was wrong, she reached up and brushed her gloved fingers against his cheek, and he was surprised to find that touch stung. Joaquín felt around the area, pulling his fingers back to see them with a small streak of red. He suppressed a shudder and quickly wiped the blood off.

“It’s just a cut, nothing major. I’ll be fine- ” He was cut off when she collided with him, hugging him tightly around his middle. The soldier stood there a moment, before awkwardly putting his arms around her. Elísa felt even smaller than she looked. He sighed, giving her a little squeeze, “Really, I’ll be fine…I’ve been through much worse.” Granted he had a medal that prevented him from getting hurt, but still. A little cut was nothing, he’d lost an eye. He’d live. She seemed to be overreacting, but when he thought how María would have reacted…she would have hit him first, but she still would have been upset. It’s a good thing she wasn’t around to hear about all the trouble he managed to get himself into.

Elísa took a shaky breath, “That’s not the point…” her voice was muffled from being spoken into his jacket. He chuckled softly at her, and he probably shouldn’t have, given that she pulled back a little and gave him a stern look. “It’s not funny! You could have been really hurt!”

_But I wasn’t_ , he wanted to say but then she continued, her eyes taking on a glassy look.

“…he came close.” Elísa spoke softly, reaching up to lightly run her fingers across his neck. The area stung as well when touched, but also caused a shiver to run through him.

How had he missed his neck being cut? That was more concerning than anything else, because it was on his blind side. Apparently, he needed to be more careful. 

That still didn’t explain to him why she was acting the way she was. She was worrying more than she needed to. He hadn’t been seriously injured, and that should matter more than what _could_ have happened. Then again…he could understand _why_ she was upset, just not by that much. Joaquín sighed again, looking down at the woman in his arms. She appeared about ready to bust into tears, and it made him feel awful.

Something flashed across her eyes and she sniffed. Elísa lowered her head, looking at him through her lashes. “I don’t want to see you hurt…”

Joaquín furrowed his brows, “Elísa, I don’t think I- ” _Understand_? The last word never left his mouth.

Elísa had fisted her hands into his jacket and pulled him down, slanting her lips over his. The first thought that ran through is mind was ‘ _this seems rather extreme for a thank you_ …’, but then it clicked in his mind that he was being kissed. Shocked from the action, he stood there rigidly as she pulled back, her eyes searching his large surprised one. She seemed to find what she was looking for and nodded, stepping back and folding her hands in front of her.

“Um…” Joaquín straightened himself with a jerk, clearing his throat into a fist before folding his hands behind his back. He tried to his best to keep from fidgeting, but he could feel Elísa’s gaze on him, and it made his already heated face feel like it was burning.

She gave a soft laugh, “The subtle hints I’ve been leaving you didn’t seem to be working, so I figured you might have needed a more…obvious one.” Her smile was kind, but he was still too shocked to see the glint in her eyes.

“O-oh…” He stammered, still not sure what to say to that. Something laughed in the back of his mind.

**_Yes…this is perfect…now you can hurt them like they hurt you._**

Joaquín tried to mentally shake the _thing_ ; it had been popping up more as of late…typically when he was with or thinking about his friends. **_  
_**

**_Make them regret rejecting you. Make HER regret passing you by. Make them hurt, make them_ suffer**. 

Joaquín grin his teeth, determined to force the _thing_ back. He mentally pushed against the presence, and it merely chuckled before seeming to vanish with an echo of **_make them suffer_** …

The soldier cleared his throat, looking down at Elísa who was watching him curiously. _She must be waiting for an answer_ , he thought. He wished he had one. “Uh…Well, you’ve certainly made your point.” Joaquín said with a nervous chuckle.

She seemed to accept that, giving another nod before reaching out and grabbing his arm. She wrapped her arm through his and gently started moving in the direction of the inn. “Good. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

He went along, not finding an excuse not to. And he did need his cuts cleaned and taken care of, so he didn’t see a problem with her helping. The walk back to the inn was filled with them chatting about everything and nothing, though the first part of the walk was mostly her telling him he needed to be more careful. He didn’t disagree with her. 

Once his cuts had been cleaned, he beat a polite, but hasty retreat back to his home.

* * *

Another week went by with no attacks, which pleased Joaquín. He avoided María and Manolo like the plague, not wanting whatever was in his head coming back. He had learned in the past few weeks that it only seemed to come around when he was in his friends company. Joaquín wasn’t stupid, he had managed to figure out that his supposed ‘black outs’ always happened after that… _thing_ stated talking to him. It was simply safer to stay away from his friends, that way they didn’t run the risk of being injured because of him. _Because he couldn’t control himself_ , he thought darkly. With some hope, and a whole lot of luck, maybe whatever it was that was happening to him would settle on it’s own.

He desperately wanted it to go away. While being around his friends was a definite trigger for his black outs, it wasn’t always the case. It would sometimes happen around Elísa…who had taken it upon herself to play games with him. He would be walking through the town doing his routine rounds, when he would be pulled into a dark street or ally by the young woman. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about kissing her, and really, that’s what she would grab him for. It felt good, _gods it had been ages since he’d been close to someone like this_ , but it didn’t feel _right_. Other times when he’d have blackouts, he would ‘wake up’ in the middle of having her pinned roughly against a wall, kissing down the side of her neck. When that happened, it was like a bucket of ice water was dumped on his head, and he would stammer out an apology and make a hasty retreat. However she didn’t seem at all deterred.

Another concerning thing was the mark on his chest. At first he had tried to ignore it, thinking it was just a bruise he’d gotten from his fight with Chakal. But then it hadn’t gone away. He had really _looked_ at it one morning, and was shocked to find that it wasn’t a bruise at all. Joaquin didn’t know what it was, but he didn’t get a good feeling from it. 

It was a black mark that was centered over his heart. It seemed to devour any kind of light that touched it, but that wasn’t the most disturbing thing about it. No, the damn thing _moved_. The edges of the mark had little tendrils that extended across his skin, and they moved against – under? – his skin almost like hair in water. It didn’t hurt, and when he touched it, he only felt his own skin, as if the mark was more a tattoo than a…living thing, if that’s what it truly was. 

Most of the time, he tried to ignore it, hoping that it would eventually disappear and he wouldn’t have to worry about it again. It might have been his imagination, but it did appear to be shrinking, but very, very slowly.

He had thought long and hard about it, and he had come to the conclusion that no one was safe around him while he was still hearing the _thing_ , and had the mark. Joaquín needed to stop this now while there was still a chance that she wouldn’t hate him. He needed to figure out what was happening to him before he tried to get close to anybody. It was obvious that it wasn’t just people who were close to him who were at risk, but anyone.

Which brought him to today. It was near sundown, and Joaquín had been making his late afternoon rounds, but had stopped when he stood in the shadow of his father’s statue. He knew what he had to do, but he wasn’t looking forward to it. Joaquín glanced at the statue, and heaved a sigh. _Dad, give me courage_ …Once he had let down Elísa as gently as he could, he’d pack up quickly and head out. The easiest way to keep his friends safe was to be as far away from them as he could manage.

It wasn’t much longer before Elísa found him, nearly tackling him in a hug. She appeared to be more excited than normal today. She yanked on his arm, causing him to stumble. “Joaquín! I’ve found the most amazing thing; I want you to see it!” The small woman was surprisingly strong, as she started tugging him in the direction of the town gate.

“Ok! I’m coming,” he chuckled and went along. A growing sense of dread started to fill him as she led him out of the town and across the bridge. He was half expecting her to take him to the large tree, but she made a right at the end of the bridge instead. They kept walking until they came to a large cluster of thorny bushes at the water’s edge. _What are those_?

“Look! Wild roses! Aren’t they beautiful?” Elísa let go of him and walked over to the closest bush, leaning down to smell the sweet flowers. She turned her head and gave him the brightest smile he had ever seen, and it made his stomach clench. When he didn’t immediately join her, much less seem to acknowledge what she said, her smile slowly fell. “Joaquín? Is something wrong?”

_He needed to tell her_. Joaquín opened his mouth to speak, but closed it, not knowing how to even start. He sighed heavily, rubbing his face in frustration. The soldier jumped when a small gloved hand slipped into his, giving a little squeeze in reassurance. He glanced at Elísa and the look she was giving him finally made him speak. “I…you…” Joaquín huffed, starting again. “Elísa…you are a beautiful, bright young woman. And, you have made yourself very, very clear on your intentions.” She giggled softly at that, and it put him slightly at ease. “But, I just…I can’t…” He trailed off, not sure how to continue. The soldier shook his head, feeling like an idiot. “Elísa, I’m sorry.” Joaquín looked down at their hands, hers holding his. “You deserve someone who can be completely devoted to you.” He avoided eye contact after that, not wanting to look at the disappointment, or anger in her features.

Instead, she huffed and gave his hand a gentle squeeze. His eye snapped to hers when she laughed softly. She was smiling at him, but it was soft and didn’t reach her eyes. “It’s alright…your heart is somewhere else.” Joaquín must have had a dumb look on his face because she laughed again. “I figured it out pretty quickly. That didn’t stop me from hoping, though.”

Joaquín blinked, “You’re…you’re not mad?” he silently cursed himself when that was the first thing that flew out of his mouth. Something inside his chest started to ease, knowing that she didn’t seem upset with him.

Elísa shook her head, “No. But whoever holds your heart? They are very lucky.” She gave his hand one last squeeze before pulling away, lightly brushing her fingertips with his before she completely let go.

He released a relieved breath, feeling something lift within him. As much as he hated that it showed, Elísa was right…his heart was still elsewhere. He was going to thank her for her understanding when his vision started to shift. It became blurry and he started to feel lightheaded. His hand shot to his temple, in an attempt to stop the world from spinning. When he opened his eye again, he was getting double vision, as the edges started to turn black. The image in front of him didn’t look right, even to his muddled mind; Elísa was still there, and something had changed about her. But he attributed it to his failing vision. He stepped to the side, and stumbled, his world turning sideways as he started to fall.

“Joaquín? Joaquín!” Someone was calling him, but it sounded distant. This was different than his normal blackouts, because the _thing_ wasn’t anywhere in his mind this time. Instead of feeling his mind slipping, his body felt heavy and lethargic. There was no panic, there was no anger, he just felt numb.

Joaquín saw Elísa reaching for him, and then everything went black.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anyone is interested in reading about the exchange between Maria and K'tsal. Hold on to your hat's kiddies, it's gonna get rough.


	5. Pieces Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding tags for blood, torture, and abduction. Changing 'some violence' to violence.

María was pacing around the bedroom, hands clenching and unclenching. She ignored her husband’s concerned looks, running everything in the past few weeks through her mind. Even Chuy appeared worried, watching her from the bed with wide eyes.

“ _Mi amor_ , you’re going to wear a trench in the floor if you keep that up.” Manolo propped himself up more on the bed, readjusting the pillows at his back.

She didn’t heed him and kept up her pacing, too deep in her thoughts. They hardly saw Joaquín anymore, and she was growing more worried. When they had first found out what was happening to him, they had kept close to the soldier. The training sessions weren’t going as well as they had hoped, every single time Joaquín would fall prey to the aftereffects of the medal. Each time it took less and less for them to bring the soldier down…but he was getting stronger. The longer he suffered from his poisoning, the more powerful it got, and the harder it fought back. They were incredibly careful, but even then they still sometimes got beat up. At least it had never been as bad as the first time when Manolo got struck in the head.

María couldn’t fault Joaquin for his behavior, but she still didn’t like that he would rather run from his friends help than seek it out. Which was _exactly_ what he was doing.

She heard Manolo sigh, “María, please…”

“He’s been avoiding us!” She finally spoke, resisting the urge to stomp her foot. “Manolo, he’s avoiding us, and I don’t like it! I mean, I get it, he doesn’t like asking for help. But that’s no excuse to hide from his best friends! He came to us when we were kids, why should now be any different? _We_ aren’t any different, but it seems like he’s become more pig-headed – no offence, Chuy - during my time in Spain! I mean, honestly!”

“María…”

“And if it isn’t bad enough that he’s been avoiding us, it’s clear that he isn’t getting enough sleep from the dark circles under his eyes. If he’s not sleeping, he’s not going to have the strength to fight off the poison. Which means that he’s going to be more susceptible to the black outs. And now that he’s running away from us, we won’t be there to help stop him if he slips under. I mean, it is just us? Does it only trigger when he’s around us? And if that’s true, then what the _hell_ does that mean? _Gods_ , I wish he would just talk to us! We’re not going to think any less of him if he needs help!” María was gesturing wildly at this point.

“María.”

“And another thing! What is with him and that Elísa woman? What does he even _see_ in her, the closed minded twit! I had thought he had learned his lesson, but apparently, he didn’t! I know you’ve already heard my opinion on her, but I think it’s worth saying again. _I don’t like her_. She’s too proper, and holds herself like she’s better than everyone else. She might have everyone else fooled, but not me! And the fact that he defended her when she insulted me! Me! ‘Oh, Maria, try to understand! Not everyone is alright with a _woman handling a sword!_ You are unique in that respect’. Bullshit!” She grabbed her hairbrush from the side table, and for a moment it looked like she was going to start brushing her hair, but instead started waving it around. “I don’t know what she did, but she did _something_ to him. She _had_ to have. He’s acting like a bigger idiot than before! And this whole thing with the assassins? I say we just hand her over and be done with it. And _another thing_ -!”

“María!” Manolo gently grabbed her by her shoulders and stopped her pacing, snapping her out of her rant haze. He searched her face for answers, yet he had none for her. With a soft sigh, he trailed his hands from her shoulders to her elbows, but didn’t release her. “I understand, I do. I’m just as concerned as you are.” Manolo smirked, though the twitch at the corner of his lips threatened to turn into a full blown grin. “Ahh, see? Now you know how I feel in regards to your ‘friend’.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. “It’s not the same…” María gently pulled out of Manolo’s grip and plopped herself on the edge of the bed. Chuy shuffled over to her and nudged her before curling up at her side. She let out a heavy sigh, reaching over with her free hand to scratch behind her pig’s ears.

“Oh? How so?” He asked, that grin still plastered on his face. Manolo leaned against the side table, crossing his legs at the ankle.

María narrowed her eyes at him, calmly starting to brush her hair. “Well for one, _K’tsal_   isn’t trying to steal me away from my friends.” She then grumbled under her breath, “She also isn’t trying to suck my face.”

Manolo heard her and his eyebrows shot up. “You’ve been _spying_ on them?”

She flinched and averted her eyes, putting more effort into brushing her hair. She might have been mistaken, but she might have seen a playful glint in his eye. “No…maybe.” María made a frustrated sound, letting her hands fall into her lap. “It was an accident. I was looking for him, see if he wanted to spar, and…I came across them. I only got a quick look before I made myself scarce. But…”  María’s grip on her hairbrush tightened, “I saw enough.”

Her husband was quiet a moment. “I’m pretty sure the floor would have a hole in it with they way you’re looking at it.” When she still didn’t look at him he _hmphed_ , taking a seat next to her on the bed. Several minutes stretched on, with only Chuy’s snoring to fill the silence. A few times, Manolo opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and closed it. When he had finally figured out how to say what he wanted to, he spoke. “What…is this really about?” He said cautiously, in a way he wasn’t sure he wanted an answer.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” María said nonchalantly, starting to brush her hair again at a higher intensity.

Manolo observed her, raising an eyebrow at her answer. “I think you do.” He wrapped an arm around her lower back and pulled her into his side. She allowed herself to be shifted, but she didn’t stop her focus on her hair. When she still didn’t answer him, he tried again. “María, talk to me.”

María was quiet another minute or so, her furious brushing calming down. “I felt awful, you know…the way he looked at us the days following the wedding. It was almost like looking at me, looking at _us_ , caused him physical pain.” Her brushing had stopped altogether, and she set the brush down next to her. “And I remember thinking that it would pass, and he would find someone wonderful that would make him happy. I just wanted him to be happy…”

He squeezed her gently around her middle, resting his head against hers. She relaxed a little, but there was still a tenseness in her shoulders he didn’t like. “Wanted?” Manolo chuckled, “You make is sound like you don’t anymore.”

She shot a weak glare at the guitarist out of the corner of her eye. “Of course I do.” She kept her voice light, but she knew her shoulders were starting to hunch. From the reaction she was getting from her husband, he could feel it too.

“Then I don’t know what the problem is.” No sooner had the words left his mouth, María shot up off the bed with a force that nearly knocked him over. He stared at her confusion, but then became concerned when he noticed her clinched fists. “María?” Manolo started to get up part way, reaching out to her, but when his fingers barely brushed her arm, she moved out of his reach. She muttered something, but he couldn’t make out what she said. “What -?”

“I didn’t expect it to hurt!” María whirled around on him, but when she saw his startled look, she averted her eyes. She started to pace around the room again, though her steps were more agitated than they were before. She kept running her hands through her hair, a clear sign that she was upset. _It didn’t make sense_ , she thought, _this shouldn’t be happening_. _It wasn’t fair to Manolo_ …that thought lingered in her head. María stopped, trying to gather herself before facing her husband. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to slow her racing thoughts. When she thought she was ready, she turned around.

Manolo appeared frozen in place, his eyes glazed over looking off into space. It immediately hit her that he was having a vision. Over the past few weeks, she had witnessed for herself several times where he suddenly went quiet and got a far off look. As soon as he snapped to, he was fine. They still didn’t understand what they had to do with his missing memories yet, but every little bit helped. She knew that it would have to wait until later; there was no way he was going to let her change the subject. So she waited patiently until he came back to her.

When he finally snapped out of it, he appeared slightly dazed with wide eyes and a flush in his cheeks that María would have great fun asking about later. Manolo blinked away the haze before clearing his throat. He shuffled awkwardly under her gaze, but eventually reached out to her again, and she gladly went into his arms. His warmth put her at ease somewhat, but that wouldn’t make this discussion easier. He didn’t need to say anything and waited for her to continue.

“I didn’t expect it to hurt, but it did.” María sighed, resting her head against his shoulder. “Seeing them together…” She pushed the memory of what she saw out of her head. “It must have been how he felt when he saw us. Like someone was squeezing the life out of your heart.” It really had been a terrible feeling, and stronger than she could have ever imagined. She knew eventually Joaquín would find someone, she might not necessarily like them, and jealousy was to be expected. But nothing like _this_. When she had seen them, she saw two options: rip the other woman away from him, or flee. Needless to say, she chose the latter. She chanced a look at Manolo and he didn’t look angry or upset like she thought he might. Instead he looked contemplative. “You…seem to be handling this well.”

He made a soft noise in his throat, still appearing thoughtful. Manolo also didn’t push her away, if anything, he held her closer. His thumb idly rubbed soothing circles at her lower back. When he spoke, his question threw her off guard. “Why didn’t you accept his proposal?”

She was taken aback with the way he spoke with calm curiosity. There wasn’t any heat or hostility to his voice, so she knew he was asking genuinely. María didn’t even have to think about her answer. “If it wasn’t for my father practically shoving me in his direction, it was his attitude. The way that he talked, nearly entirely about himself, wasn’t at all like I remembered him. He was arrogant, prideful, entitled…the list goes on and on. And his ideas on women! You didn’t see, but I really wanted to punch him in the face at my welcome home dinner.” She sighed, nuzzling into Manolo’s shoulder. “He had changed _so much_. I couldn’t even see the boy that I remembered in him.”

Manolo didn’t respond right away, and when María looked at him, he still appeared deep in thought. “And me?”

María laughed softly, reaching a hand up to trail her knuckles against his cheek. “Oh, Manolo…” His eyes snapped to hers at the contact, and she didn’t miss the carefully hidden fear behind them. “Like I told you under the tree, I will always love the man who plays from the heart. You may have been trained as a bullfighter, but your heart remained focused on your music.” She ran her hand gently down his face before pressing it against his chest, right over his beating heart. “You changed, yes, but your heart is still the same.” María sighed playfully, giving his chest a soft pat, “Though I _was_ worried for a moment there…you were acting like an idiot too.”

He hummed again, placing a kiss on the top of her head. “If I haven’t said it before, I’m glad you chose me.” They stood like that for several minutes before Manolo broke the silence again. “But…I still don’t think I understand. If that is how you felt about him…what changed?”

She puffed out a sigh and attempted to pull away, but arms tightened around her. _She wasn’t getting out of this one it seemed_. María could understand why he was worried, but it was completely unfounded. “Manolo, I love _you_. You’re the one _I chose_.” She wanted to make that point clear before she said anything else. He seemed to relax at that, but that worrying glint was still in his eyes. “As to what changed…I think it had something to do with that stupid medal. Once he gave it up, it’s almost like his mind cleared or something. Disregarding the poisoning, he’s starting to act more like how I remembered. He’s more quiet now, not as outspoken…it’s like he’s been toned down.” María smiled, remembering some of the conversations she’d had with him over the last few weeks. “He’s gone shy now, and his clumsiness has returned. Joaquín…I think he’s reverting to who he was before he got the medal.” She found that Joaquín much more endearing than the one that she met when she came home.

“That still doesn’t tell me why you were so upset at seeing him with someone.”

María groaned a little, turning her face into his shoulder again and leaning some of her weight against her husband. She didn’t really understand it herself, so it was hard for her to explain it to him. “I don’t know if I have an exact answer for you.” She said softly, Manolo giving her a little squeeze in support. “But seeing him now, how he used to be when we were kids? It’s almost like something shifted back into place for me.” That was the closest she could come to understanding what had happened. When she had met Joaquín, and how he acted right after she got back, she was more than disappointed in his behavior. It had blackened what she thought she felt for him then. But now…

She felt Manolo nod, and he nuzzled his nose into her hair. “I think I know what you mean.” He spoke softly, his warm breath tickling her ear. “I think…if I had seen what you had, I’d have been more shocked than angry, but I would still be…” he trailed off, and it piqued her interest. Manolo cleared his throat. “Maybe…we should talk to him. I’ll be honest, I have a strange feeling about her. And you’ve made it quite obvious you don’t like her, but…we really need to find out what’s going on first. Let’s do that tomorrow.”

María snorted, “More like corner him.”

Her husband chuckled softly, hugging her close before pulling away. He looked at her with that glint in his eyes. “If that’s what it takes, that’s what we’ll do.” Manolo reached out and pushed a loose curl of hair behind her ear. “It’s late. We should get some rest if we’re going to be chasing down Joaquín tomorrow.”

She smiled at him and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around the back of his neck, placing a lingering kiss on his lips. “And we will…right after you tell me what you saw.”

Manolo hummed, the sound almost disappointed. “I was hoping you’d have forgotten. I can’t slip anything past you, can I?”

“Nope!” She chirped in response.

He surprised her by picking her up and carrying her over to the bed, her startled shriek turning into a laugh. Setting her gently on the bed, he climbed in next to her and she curled up into his side.

“Now start talkin’.”

* * *

_He was standing there, watching as the beast neared him, his mind screaming at him to_ run _, but he was rooted to the spot. The creature’s slitted ruby eyes were impossibly big, staring at him, like they were gazing into his very soul. The creature moved like a blur, the only thing other than it’s eyes that was clear were the giant wings and sharp, glinting claws…claws that were reaching towards him to tear him apart, and yet he just stood there. He turned his head away, as if that could somehow save him, but he knew in the back of his mind it wouldn’t. Just as the creature reached him -_

Joaquín was jerked awake by a cracking sound and a sharp sting to his cheek. He tried to open his eye, but it felt heavy. The stinging in his cheek turned to an aching throb, and he could taste that horrid coppery tang of blood in his mouth.

“Time to wake up!” Chirped a familiar voice, but it was slightly deeper and more raspy than he remembered.

He breathed deeply, both to gather his strength and to try and ease the ache in his cheek, but his chest expansion was halted part way. Joaquín tried to lift a hand to feel what had prevented him from taking a full breath, he discovered that he couldn’t move his hand either…make that both his hands. He hoped against hope that his feet were free of whatever binds were on the rest of him, but unfortunately, they were just as immobile as everything else. Using as much strength that he had, he lifted his head, trying to ignore the stiffness in his neck, and forced his eye to open.

As the light hit him, he closed his eye against the harsh glow with a pained grunt, deciding that opening it in little increments was the best way to go. When he finally managed to open his eye fully, and the blurriness melted away, he looked around. He was in a cave of some sort, a handful of torches lighting the area. He looked down at himself, and his heart sank down to his feet – he was tied tightly to a chair, with no chance of escape. A soft chuckle drew his attention and when his eye landed on the figure, he had to blink a few times to believe what he was seeing. He automatically struggled at his bonds. “Elísa?”

She hummed, “Yes, me. I was growing impatient, since you didn’t appear to be in any mood to wake up….so I gave you a little help.” She looked down at her hand, her knuckles covered with glittering silver. That wasn’t the only thing different about her. In place of the easy smile he had come to know from her was a dangerous smirk below cold, piercing eyes. She wore a belt low on her hips that held several small knives, a sword, and a pistol. She had two bandoleers slung across her chest from her left shoulder to her right hip, both holding bombs, vials and ammo. Her normal skirts traded out for similar ones, but with a slit down the side for better maneuverability.

_No wonder his cheek was in agony_. “I don’t understand. What -?”

“-are my plans? They will be revealed in time, don’t you worry. What do I plan to do with you? Well…” She trailed off, pushing against the table she had been leaning on and walked slowly over to him.

Joaquín struggled more, anger bubbling with confusion inside of him. His heart rate skyrocketed when she neared him, and he tried to bury his rising panic in every way he could.

She stopped briefly in front of him, bracing a hand against the chair he was tied to and leaning over him. “Normally I don’t let myself play with my targets once I have them, because I’d already had my fun. But _you_ ,” her other hand shot out, grabbing Joaquin around the throat and squeezing, slowly cutting off his air supply, her fingernails digging into his skin, “ _You_ who are too _noble_ and _gentlemanly_ with his _damn heart_ already elsewhere…it was taking too long to break you, and I get impatient easily.” Her hand closed a little tighter, and he was starting to get lightheaded. “But that’s fine. I’ll still have my fun, and you will have a slow, painful death.”

She finally released him, and he gasped for breath, before starting to cough. He was trying not to pay attention to her, but he could see the sneer on her face as he gulped air. When he had recovered somewhat, he sent the most hateful glare her way, steeling his features. “Do your worst.” Joaquín growled through clenched teeth. The soldier didn’t know if she was after information or something else, but he wasn’t going to cooperate with the mad woman.

“Oh, I plan to…” She purred, trailing her fingers across his brow and down the side of his face, brushing over the cheek that she had struck. The tender flesh throbbed under her touch and Joaquín jerked his head away from her exploring fingers. In retaliation, she ran her hand through his hair, fisting her hand in the slightly longer wisps near the nape of his neck and twisted. He tried to hide a wince, but he didn’t think he succeeded, considering the wicked smile that curled her lips. She pulled his head back, exposing his neck and he felt his heart start to race again.

Her smile only grew, and he could see the dangerous sparkle in her eyes. Unexpectedly, she turned herself and sat in his lab, and he reflexively tried to move back as far away from her as he could…but there was only so far he could move when he was tied to a chair. She removed a dagger from her boot, and with the hand still fisted in his hair giving another yank, she twirled the object effortlessly in her hand. She trailed the dagger down his already sore cheek, continuing it’s path down his jaw, and pausing at his neck. When she dragged the weapon across his throat, she put a little more pressure into the action, causing a thin red line to appear. When she showed him the dagger, the tip had a small droplet of blood clinging to it. 

Her already dangerous eyes seemed to dance when she picked up the fear he was doing his best to hide. With a terrifying giggle, she placed the dagger to her lips, seeming to kiss the blood off the tip. Her eyes never left his, and he could have sworn his blood ran cold in that instant. She leaned in close, his head still yanked back at an odd angle, and whispered into his ear. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be _begging_ me to kill you.” She then released his hair, trailing her now free hand around his neck and down his chest. She then stood and sheathed the dagger in one smooth motion and walked back towards the table.

Joaquín tugged against the bonds again in vain. “Why are you doing this?”

She whirled around, her face was drawn in a menacing glare that caused the soldier’s eye to widen. “Because I’m going to make you suffer, just like I have suffered!” She stomped over to him, “I’m going to take away everything you love, just like it was taken away from me.” She stared down at him, the fire in her eyes threatening to set him ablaze if it were possible. “I will tear you down little by little, slowly crushing your will to live. And _please_ , resist all you want, it makes the game more fun.” She rose her hand to strike him again, and the soldier refused to back down, but she seemed to think better of it. Elísa cocked her head to the side, as if studying him, then shrugged and returned to her position of leaning against the table.

“I’ve never done anything to you.” Joaquín practically growled, “I-I saved you! What have I done to warrant your hatred?” He stopped pulling against his bonds, knowing that for now, it was useless. He would have to bide his time, maybe an opportunity will present itself and he can try to escape. **_  
_**

**_Not before killing her…_** the _thing_ in his head hissed. 

Joaquín mentally shook himself, forcing the voice away. He had gotten better at making it leave, but not well enough it seemed. **_  
_**

**_You know I’m right…you_ want _to kill her. She deserves to DIE_**. 

With one more push the presence disappeared, much to his relief. He had enough to worry about without trying to keep that _thing_ at bay.

Elísa leaned her head back, tapping a finger against her crossed arms. “Truthfully? Nothing.” She then pulled out the dagger from her boot and a stone block from behind her back, possibly from the table. She slowly started running the daggers edge over the square stone in long strokes. “You’re just a convenient replacement.” Elísa looked at the blade in the firelight before continuing to sharpen the blade, a cruel smile creeping across her lips. “Oh naïve, little soldier boy, if you really think that you saved me when my horse was out of control, you’re dumber than you look.” Her laugh was cold and sharp, “But it’s nice to know I can fool the Great _Hero_ of San Ángel.”

Well, if he was going to be tied up here in the presence of this psychopath, he could at least get some information out of her. Joaquín relaxed is body and much as he could, and ignored the way his wrists were starting to burn because of the rope. “It’s nice to know you hold me in such high regards…” He said with dripping sarcasm. “…what am I a replacement for?”

Her eyes flicked to his before returning to her work. “A whom, not a what.” After a few minutes she sighed and laid the stone back on the table, slowly twirling the freshly sharpened dagger in her hands. “If you _must_ know, it was your father, Captain Mondragón.” Her eyes took on a predatory glint, “It was merely luck that I found out he happened to have a son. And for my purposes, you’ll do nicely.”

Joaquín knew he was going to regret asking, but he did it anyway. He spoke slowly, making a show of being hesitant to ask. _She wasn’t the only one who could act_. “What did my father do to you?” **_  
_**

**_Yes, good. Find out her weaknesses so you can exploit them later when you escape_**.

The dagger stopped it’s twirling, instead being gripped in a hand that was holding it so tight her knuckles ran white. Her eyes darkened as she looked upon the soldier. “He killed _my_ father and brother. The only family I had! The only people in my life that _mattered_!”

In a fit of rage, she threw the dagger at Joaquin, and it whizzed passed his head, clipping his ear in the process. He heard the dagger lodge in the soft earth behind him, and he grit his teeth against the new stinging pain from his cut ear. He also did his best to ignore the feeling of his blood rolling down his ear, lest his stomach start to churn. Good thing he had a bigger problem in front of him he needed to worry about.

“They were good men! They never hurt _anyone_.” She continued to rage in front of him, slowly growing closer. “They didn’t deserve what your father did to them! They only did what they had to do…” Elísa turned around and started to walk away from him. He could see that her shoulders were tense, and she kept bringing her hands to her temples while she started to pace back and forth.

Pushing her might actually help him…people tend to make mistakes when stressed or emotionally compromised. And she looked both. On the other hand, he could risk getting himself killed. But it sounded like she had no intention of killing him right now, he might have a chance. He straitened his back as much as he could and took on a slightly noble air. “I highly doubt that. My father only punished people who deserved it. So whatever happened to them must have been warranted.” _Please let this work_ …

She whirled around to face him, her look more dark and menacing than ever before. Her head was slightly bowed, giving her a predatory look. The edge of her lip curled up exposing white teeth, and she might as well have been a wolf for all he cared…she looked like a wild beast in that moment. “No, they didn’t…” She snarled. Elísa started to advance on him again, her footfalls sure and calculated.

Joaquín didn’t even have a chance to formulate his thought of ‘ _oh shit_ ’ before she struck him.

His head snapped back and to the side with the force her upward back hand. “My father didn’t _deserve_ to be slain for taking a stale piece of bread to try and feed his family!” She punched him this time on his blind side, and his mouth filled with the taste of copper. “My brother didn’t _deserve_ to see his father brutally murdered in front of him, then hunted down like an animal because he had _seen too much_!” She hit him again, and this time his head snapped back far enough that it collided with the back of the chair, and his vision started to swim before him. “I didn’t _deserve_ to watch my brother die in front of me, bruised and bloodied, leaving me to fend for myself! My family didn’t _deserve_ to be wiped out because we were starving from the god damned war!”

She struck him a few more times before she backed off, her animalistic sneer melting into a crazed grin. He coughed, spitting out several times to rid himself of the taste of blood. His face and head were pounding, and he was grateful there wasn’t a mirror anywhere near him. His stomach lurched from the taste, and the sight of his blood across her silver knuckles, but he managed to keep himself in check. _That backfired horrifically_. He closed his eye, waiting for everything around him to stop spinning. When it didn’t feel like the world was tilting around him anymore, he cautioned to open his eye again.

Elísa was wiping his blood off on her skirts. “I didn’t _deserve_ to be left with _nothing_.” She hissed as her eyes seemed to lose their killing edge.

_Well, he’d gotten her talking at least, why stop now?_ He fought against the growing nausea that his pounding head caused. “What happened?”

She stared him down for a few minutes, seeming to think things over. She eventually shrugged, her appearance returning to a somewhat normal state. “You might as well know, I’m going to kill you anyway.” She crossed her arm across her chest, “I buried my brother, and went to the local church looking for sanctuary. I was turned away, saying they already had too many orphans, and to try the next town. I was six. So I walked from town to town, sometimes traveling with other families, normally by myself. You learn a lot of things when you’re forced out on your own…” Elísa started to pace, but it wasn’t the manic kind he had witnessed earlier, this was more calm. Contemplative almost. “I was eventually taken in by a kind old woman, and I managed to move on from what happened.” She shrugged again and went quiet.

Joaquin’s brows knit in confusion. If that was true, then there was no reason for her to come after him. “Then why am I here?” He got no response and she continued to walk around the cave. 

She walked behind him and retrieved her dagger, coming close to him and running the blade over his shoulder. It did no damage, but there was definitely threat in the action. Elísa looked at him expectantly, as if he should already know the answer. 

He studied her while he ran through everything she had told him. _Alright, Joaquín think! What could have changed…what happened_ … ** _  
_**

**_Stop thinking about what happened to_ her _and start thinking about how you’re going to_ destroy her _when you get free_ …**

Joaquín fought not to roll his eye at the _thing_. Instead he ignored it and ran through more conversations. Then his eye widened. “The attack…that actually happened to you?” He asked, slight disbelief coloring his tone.

He swallowed roughly when she narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes, but it wasn’t some random assassin guild leader…it was a soldier that hailed from your father’s unit.” Elísa’s voice was cold, the smile on her face contradicting her tone. “Something must have happened when he hit me with that rock…something _broke free_.” Her smile turned cruel and her eyes lit up. “I tracked him down, and made my grievances known.” A dark chuckle this time, “I had never felt more alive than when I was flaying him…his screams were music to my ears. And when I slit his throat, watching the life bleed out of his terrified eyes?” She shuddered, almost as if in pleasure, “I knew then what I was born to do.”

Joaquín tried not to retch, her cheerful tone and the images running through his head a sickening combination. _And she’s going to do that to him if he didn’t get out of here_. He could only bide his time so long until it was too late.

He watched as her expression soured. “Imagine my disappointment when I learned that Captain Mondragón had been killed in battle. I had thought that my plan for revenge had fallen apart.” She turned her attention back to Joaquín, and started towards him again. “And then my delight at finding out he had a son that was following in his footsteps. So I put my plan into action once I’d heard you’d returned to San Ángel.”

The soldier mustered up his best scowl and directed it at Elísa. There were still things he didn’t understand. “What about the assassins? The attacks?”

Elísa laughed, the sound nearly hysterical. “You stupid _Hero_ , those were my men. I _ordered_ them to attack us.” Her grin turned into a sneer, “It was unfortunate that _woman_ had to get involved. If she could even be called that. What respectable woman, even an assassin, wears _pants_? It’s undignified.” She scoffed, and rolled her eyes like it was absurd to her. “But I digress…” Elísa tilted her head to the side, as if thinking something over, and pleased smile pulled at her mouth. “Want to know what I’m thinking?” Her voice was sickeningly sweet, and he just glared at her. “No? Well I’m going to tell you anyway. I was just thinking how much fun I’m going to have peeling away your skin, you’ll be alive and awake of course…maybe I’ll tan your hide and make a very handsome throw rug out of you.”

Joaquín did strain against the bonds that time, little good it did him. “You sick, twisted psychopathic -!”

He didn’t get any farther, the woman’s boot connecting with his chest and causing him to topple over backwards. The air left his lungs in a swift whoosh, and he didn’t get a chance to fill them. Elísa kicked him roughly in the side, and he gasped in pain, his lungs burning in both strain and relief after having been depleted. She kicked him again, harder this time, and he heard something crack, a sharp pain blossoming in his chest. Joaquín was breathing heavily through his nose, trying not to cry out at the pain now rippling through his side and preventing him from taking full breaths. But it was hard, every breath he took was almost as painful as when he was kicked. He wheezed, “Y-you don’t…have to…do this…”

Elísa stomped over to the table and grabbed a glass vial, before returning to him, hovering over him like an angel of death. She crouched down and grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth and pouring some kind of liquid down his throat. “I don’t _have_ to do anything…I _want_ to.” He choked and spluttered, spitting out whatever he hadn’t managed to swallow.

From the other side of the small cavern, two men rushed around the corner, stopping in their tracks when they saw Joaquín on his back and Elísa standing over him. She whipped around and looked at them, barking orders. “Get him up. I want to see his face as he screams.”

The two men rushed over, not wanting to incur their leader’s wrath, and once Joaquín was again sitting upright with the chair, they spoke in hushed tones with Elísa. She sent them away with a wave of her hand, pulling up a chair on the other side of the table and settled in. She was watching Joaquín intently, almost expectantly.

“What…what did you do to me?” He coughed, still choking from having _something_ poured down his throat. Joaquín could feel himself growing weaker, almost like his body was slipping away.

Elísa’s grin crept across her face, the sight more unnerving than normal. “You’ll see. This is where the _fun_ begins.”

* * *

So far, they had found nothing. Joaquín hadn’t been at any of the places that he normally was before midday. However, it seemed that the soldier had gotten rather good at avoiding them. María and Manolo had agreed that they could cover more distance between them apart, and it also improved their chances of running into him. They had also agreed that if either one found their friend, they would keep him in one spot until they met up again.

María had been searching every spot she knew Joaquín frequented since she had returned home. Manolo had suggested a few spots to her as well, which she was checking out. She had already checked the barracks and talked with the soldiers, and it was a little worrying that they hadn’t seen him either. One of the cadets had actually told her that Joaquín normally came around in the mornings to train them, but he hadn’t shown up yet.

It was long after noon. 

The soldiers offered to help her look for their Captain, but she declined. While it would take less time to search with more people, it wouldn’t help María and Manolo much once they had found him.

Joaquín also hadn’t been in the stables. María had learned that it was one of the places Joaquín would go where no one would bother him. He took great pride in taking care of his own horse, and the thought brought a smile to her face. However, at the same time, it told her that Joaquín hadn’t left the town. If he was planning on traveling, he would have taken Plata with him. The thought of Joaquín leaving without saying anything to them about it made her heart clench. _He would never leave without taking his horse_ , she thought to herself. She made sure to talk to the horse and give her a few pets before she continued on her search.

She checked a few bars in the area, but had no luck. María even thought to ask her father if he knew anything of Joaquín’s whereabouts. However, the General wasn’t any help, saying he hadn’t seen much of the soldier either. 

She was becoming frustrated with finding nothing. A thought hung at the back of her mind, and taking a deep breath, started towards the inn. If anyone had seen Joaquín recently, it was Elísa. María still didn’t like the woman, nor did she trust her further than she could throw her, but it was at least someone else she could talk to.

But it was another dead end. María had gathered nothing but concern after talking with the inn keeper. Apparently, Elísa hadn’t come back last night. The inn keeper told her that the woman had left sometime in the late afternoon, early evening yesterday and they hadn’t seen her since. María knew instantly who she was going to meet…it wasn’t like it was a secret anymore. She tried to push the thought from her mind when her heart gave a painful lurch. Now was not the time. Besides, Manolo was the one charged with checking out Joaquín’s home and that side of town. If her husband found anything, he’d tell her once they met up in the center of town.

Heaving a sigh, she started heading towards their meeting place. The sun was starting to sink; it would be sunset soon, and she hadn’t found Joaquín. It was more upsetting that no one could tell her where he was. Her father, but especially the soldiers…surely they would have known Joaquín well enough to at least point her in a direction.

María meandered the town’s streets, lost in her thoughts. She didn’t even know what they were going to say to Joaquín when they found him. They hadn’t discussed it. Mostly she wanted to hit him upside the head and yell at him for his idiotic behavior. How could he think that he couldn’t come to his _best friends_ with his problems? Could it be that he was going through the same thing that Manolo was? At first María thought it was just because he felt awkward being around them, and then it was because he had some kind of magic curse on him…at this point, María wouldn’t be surprised if there was something else bothering him.

Thinking of Manolo…she had a lot to think on concerning her husband. He wasn’t telling her everything for whatever reason, and she was starting to get a little frustrated with him because of it. She was his wife, damn it, he should be able to tell her _everything_. And if not for that, she was one of his best friends. He had told her a little more than normal with the vision he had last night, but she could still tell he was leaving something out. 

María was a smart woman; she could fill in most of the gaps on her own. She had an idea what was going on, especially with what Manolo had finally admitted to her…her hand itched to hit him again just thinking about it. _Stupid man. If she had known earlier, before he’d come back, she would have killed him herself_. She had been _so mad_ at him…she still was, but she’d have time to reproach him later.

María huffed, pushing the thought from her mind. She walked into the town center and after a quick search for her husband, took a seat by the fountain to wait for him. Hopefully, he was having better luck than she was.

Her attention was drawn by the sounds of children giggling and laughing. Running into the town center from the direction of the church were the orphans in hot pursuit of K’tsal. They were waving toy swords at her, trying to keep up with her much longer strides. María couldn’t help but smile when the warrior woman slowed down enough for the children to catch up with her. The orphans immediately started to attack her legs and lower body, swiping at anything their wooden weapons could touch. María couldn’t hold in her giggles anymore when K’tsal started to dramatically collapse onto her knees – the children still play fighting with her. Eventually, one of the orphans tackled the tall woman and she went down onto her back and lay still. 

The children watched with wide eyes as she didn’t move, didn’t even look like she was breathing. The boy poked her lightly with the tip of his sword, but still got no reaction. The children leaned over K’tsal to get a better look, and when they were practically on the ground with her, the woman rose up with shout. The children screamed in surprise, but it quickly turned into more giggling as they started to run off, K’tsal chasing after them.

She was happy to see the orphans having fun, more amused with watching K’tsal play fighting with them than anything else. After her chat with the woman, a few things had been made clear for María. K’tsal was obviously not human. She had been watching her a little more closely than before, and noticed a few things. In bright sunlight, some of the highlights in K’tsal’s hair seemed to shine a faint purple. When she happened to see the woman at night, her eyes appeared to glow, the moonlight giving off an odd sort of reflection. Days after María had talked to the woman, whatever wound she had received on her neck completely healed over…a wound like that for a human would have taken weeks to heal up.

_And yet_ …María watched as the woman continued to play with the orphans. Something about it told María that she was used to being around children, playing with them easily as if they were her own. _Human children_ , her mind provided. Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so surprised, seeing as the woman handed her a magic book with wanting little more than a story in return.

Which made her think of how they tried to find out what was wrong with Manolo using that book. Unfortunately, they couldn’t seem to locate any information regarding his memory loss. So there was still that unanswered question. On the other hand, she might have figured out why Manolo always got such a horrible feeling when he was around K’tsal. However, she wouldn’t be able to test her theory until the two met next…preferably with no other people around.

As if the thought of her husband could summon him, María saw Manolo jogging towards her. She smiled and waved at him, but something in his posture caused her smile to fall. She stood and met Manolo, his face was drawn and his brows were knitted with worry. Without even thinking, the first words out of her mouth were, “What’s wrong?”

“I think we have a problem.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “I found this when I went to check his home.”

María quickly unfolded the paper, finding that it was a note. She scanned it over quickly, her brows furrowing in confusion, before looking up at her husband. He opened his mouth to speak, but she beat him to it, “ Manolo, Plata is still in the stables.” As she spoke, her eyes widened as much as his and she saw a streak of fear run through him. Something caught his eye, and he took off, walking with purpose. Looking in the direction he set off in, she saw him stomping towards K’tsal. “Wait, Manolo!” She tried to call after him, but he either didn’t hear or was ignoring her and kept going. _Shit_ , she took off after him, but he was practically to the woman.

She had to give the woman credit where it was due. As soon as Manolo had started his approach, K’tsal had crouched down to the children’s level and spoken to them. They ran back in the direction of the orphanage, not once looking back. _Good_ , María thought, _that’s one less thing she needed to worry about_.

“Why are you doing this?” Manolo near shouted at the woman when he got close enough to her. “What could you possibly have to gain?” Her husband was gesturing wildly with his hands, never once taking his eyes off K’tsal. “Where is he?”

The woman’s eyes flashed, but her face remained calm and unreadable. She remained quiet, causing Manolo’s lips to thin in anger. “Where is who?”

“Manolo…” María took her place by her husband’s side, but grabbed hold of his arm. She didn’t need him trying to take a swing at the woman; she knew that it would go badly if he did. “Manolo, wait.”

“You know exactly who!” Manolo growled, plucking the note from María’s hand with the arm she wasn’t holding and showing it to K’tsal. “ _Where is he?_ ”

Thinking quickly, María slipped her hand into Manolo’s, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. He returned it, but it was much tenser than she would have liked. _Please, please don’t do anything stupid_ …She silently told Manolo to calm down, brushing her thumb over his knuckles. It would do them no good if his temper got out of hand. As much as he liked to deny it, Manolo _did_ have a fiery temper; it just didn’t show itself very often. María felt better when his hand relaxed a little in her own.

K’tsal rose an eyebrow at Manolo, taking the note that had practically been shoved in her face and looking it over briefly. She shrugged, but didn’t hand the note back. “I don’t know.” She opened her mouth to continue, but was beat to it.

“Of _course_ you know!” Manolo reached to grab the note back, fully intending on ripping it away from the woman.

In a move that surprised both Manolo and Maria with it’s lightning quick speed, K’tsal had grabbed his wrist in a grip tight enough to make him wince. Her face remained calm, but María could see the slight irritation in her gaze. The woman continued to hold Manolo’s wrist, straightening up to her full height. She looked down at Manolo with disinterest.

María could feel Manolo try to jerk his hand away from the woman, but she held fast. Her grip tightened on her husband’s hand and she leaned over to speak quietly to him. “Manolo, she can’t read our language.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that sooner?” He grit out in return.

“You didn’t give me a chance to.” She returned through clenched teeth. His expression then changed, instantly worrying her. His face had become twisted in agony, but María didn’t think it was because of pain in his wrist. She had seen this before when K’tsal had been near, but never this close.

“She’s right, youngling.” K’tsal didn’t have to shout to sound intimidating. She still had Manolo’s wrist in her clutches, but María noticed that she wasn’t touching his skin.

_Odd, if someone was trying to take something away from her, she’d grab their hand, not their wrist_. María narrowed her eyes, trying to piece together what that meant.

K’tsal gave one last stern glance at Manolo before letting go of his wrist. “Now, what warrants you practically attacking me?”

Manolo didn’t look sure where to begin, the drawn look on his face getting slightly worse now that he’d calmed down some. K’tsal must have noticed it too, since she was giving Manolo a strange look. María decided it was best if she filled the woman in. “Our friend, the one asked you for help with, we couldn’t find him…” She reached forward in silent askance for the note K’tsal still had in hand. The woman handed it over without a fuss. “Manolo found this note at Joaquín’s home. It says -

_Manolo, María, I wish I had the time to speak with you directly. I’m taking Elísa to a safe place, due to a particularly bad attack. I now know who’s been sending the attacks, and I trust you both to handle it. The one who’s been after Elísa is the soldier woman from a distant land. She’s been around at every attack, and I fear that if I don’t take Elísa away now, she’ll succeed in her diabolical mission. I fear that she knows I’m on to her, so if something happens to me before I can leave the town, you’ll know who to talk to. Please take care of yourselves when handling this matter. Best of luck, Joaquín._

\- but I know that he didn’t write this.”

“You do? How?” Manolo asked, looking over the note again. María was glad he seemed to be perking up a bit, even if he was still a little tense.

María rolled her eyes. _Ay, what was she going to do with him?_ “Well, if you had given me a chance to read the thing over before you went off…” she started, and Manolo had the decency to look cowed, “I would have pointed out his signature to you.”

“…what about it?” Her husband asked, once again looking over her shoulder, but still appearing confused. K’tsal leaned a little closer as well, her eyes slightly widened in their curiosity.

She resisted rolling her eyes again, and possibly hitting him upside the head. “Really? You don’t – alright fine…there isn’t a heart over the _í_ in his signature.”

Manolo’s eyebrows rose practically to his hairline, “He still does that?”

“Oh yeah. And I have to proof back home…” María said with a slight smile to her lips. Then she frowned, “But I don’t know why she would incriminate you…” She looked back at K’tsal, and the woman seemed thoughtful.

“Wait, she?” María didn’t have to answer the question before understanding dawned on her husband. “You think Elísa wrote the note…”

“I _know_ she did.” She looked back at K’tsal with a smirk, “Any ideas?”

K’tsal seemed to be thinking over before shaking her head slowly, “I can think of nothing, no.”

María’s thoughts were flying through her head, _she must have taken Joaquín_ …“If she’s taken him, than the sooner we leave the better the trail is going to be…” She and Manolo spoke in rushed and hurried tones, thinking out loud. _We should take Plata, she’ll be able to find Joaquín_. She remembered a story the soldier had told her recently about how during a battle he had been thrown from his horse, only to end up on the other side of the battle field during the melee. Plata had easily found him;  Joaquín had no clue how the horse always found him, but she did. _  
_

_We’ll need to take some supplies with us, we don’t know how far it’ll be._ But then something occurred to her, what if the trail had gone cold? How could they find him them? It was nearly sunset, how would they track them at night? Manolo assured her that they would be able to find him, they always had found each other in the past when they were children.

“If I may interject?” K’tsal spoke up, interrupting their conversation. “I know you want to take his horse with you, but she is only one horse, as fast as she is, and you will be three people. I think you’ll need something bigger if you are all to return quickly.”

María and Manolo shared a glance. “How did you know about Plata being fast?”

K’tsal blinked, as if the answer had been obvious. “I had a very pleasant conversation with her. She’s a bit of a high horse, but that’s to be expected given her breeding.” Manolo and María looked at the woman like she had grown an extra head. She ignored them and continued on, “Now, Plata might be the fastest thing on four legs, but I have something better. _Faster_. And he would be able to carry all three of you easily. I would be happy to loan him to you.”

“How fast, exactly?” María asked with slight hesitance.

The woman smirked like she knew some kind of inside joke. “You’ll be riding with the wind.”

Manolo opened his mouth, but María elbowed him in the side. She just knew he was going to refuse her help. “We accept.” She could see him giving her an incredulous look out of the corner of her eye, but she studiously ignored him.

K’tsal nodded, and looked to the sky. She seemed to be judging something they couldn’t see. “It’s nearly sunset…meet me on the other side of the bridge after the sun has disappeared. You’ll travel under the cover of night.”

María shifted her weight, “How will we be able to see the trail in the dark?”

“You were ready to take off the moment you knew your friend was in trouble. There isn’t even an hour of sunlight left, had you left now, how would you have tracked them?” The woman cocked her head to the side, watching them expectantly.

María sighed. “Alright, point taken. Do we need to bring anything with us?”

“A weapon or two wouldn’t be a bad idea.” K’tsal then waved them off, while she headed in the direction of the stables. “Now go, prepare yourselves. I doubt you’ll get in and out without a fight.” Without another word or protest from the two, the woman headed off.

They watched her go in silence, and María watched her husband closely. He seemed to further relax once K’tsal was far away from him, but he still looked worried. She gave his hand another reassuring squeeze, “I know. I’m worried about him too.”

“Can we really trust her?” Manolo slipped his hand out from hers, choosing to wrap his arm around her instead. When she returned his embrace, he buried his face in her hair. “Do you think he’s ok?” His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. Her heart clenched at how his voice wavered.

_He’s taking this pretty hard_ , she thought as she held him tightly. María didn’t blame him, knowing the vision he’d just had coupled with the nightmare he’d experienced last night. He might not realize it yet, but she did…pieces of the puzzle were still missing, but she had enough of a picture already put together to understand. Now all María had to do was get him to _see it_. She ran her hand soothingly up and down his back, “I trust her.” María spoke, keeping her voice soft and gentle. “I can hope and pray he’s alright…and he’ll remain that way until we get there.”

With a deep sigh, Manolo placed a soft kiss on her temple. “We’ll find him…and we’ll bring him home. Alive.” Her husband’s voice strengthened as he spoke, and when she looked at him, he had his normal determination back.

She smiled and nodded. “Yes. Alright, husband, let’s prepare.” María didn’t know what to expect, but there was definitely going to be some kind of fight. A grin threatened to curl her lips, _and she was going to have great joy punching Elísa in the face_.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun Fact: Elísa likes to bathe in the blood of her victims. She thinks it helps her look more beautiful and stay young.  
> Don't relax yet, this isn't the bad part...that's coming up.


	6. Pieces Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adding warnings for more blood, hallucinations, more torture, feels, and major character death. Might want to grab some tissues, this is the bumpy right I was talking about.

_No, not again…this couldn’t be happening_ …

It was raining, the droplets falling on his already soaked uniform. A strong wind blew, causing him to shiver, the cold seeming to seep into his bones. He was staring down the wooden bridge, the mist obscuring the end of it. Something compelled him to walk across, a deep sense of dread creeping up his spine. There were candles lining either side of the bridge, but they had long since been drowned out by the rain. His feet continued to move of their own accord, even though his mind kept screaming to stop, to turn back now for fear of what he would find on the other side.

It seemed to take forever, but he made it to the other end of the bridge, just below the welcome arch. To his left was the giant tree… _that damned tree_. The soldier swallowed thickly, but found himself moving towards the tree anyway. _No, I don’t want to go there…please, don’t make me go!_ He screamed over and over in his head. Yet his body refused to listen to him. Up the hill he trudged, until he could see the base of the tree. Joaquín snapped his eye shut, closing it as tightly as he could…yet he could still see everything in front of him.

There at the base of the tree was his best friend lying motionless. His guitar was a few feet away, and it seemed _wrong_ that it wasn’t right next to his friend. Joaquín was struck with another sense of _wrongness_ when he looked upon his unmoving friend. Manolo was pale, all the color seemed to have drained out of his face. Being dead will do that to a person. The worst part was the pained expression on his friends face. _That wasn’t right, he didn’t remember it looking like that_.

He dropped to the ground, his knees buckling and giving out under his weight. _This isn’t right, this is_ wrong _!_ Joaquín couldn’t help himself, he looped his arms under his friend and pulled him close, hugging him with a desperation he hadn’t felt since _that day_. “I didn’t mean it…Manolo, _I didn’t mean it!_ ” He whispered over and over, his voice becoming more cracked and broken as time went on. He could feel the hotness of his tears running down the right side of his face like fire, his empty eye socket burning in a sad imitation of crying.

“Yes…you…did…” He heard hissing, the body he was holding giving a shudder.

Joaquín looked down at his friend and yelped, dropping Manolo and scooting back as terror gripped him. 

Manolo’s eyes were that foggy grey that corpses tended to have, and there was no love or life in those terrible eyes that seemed to stare into him. Manolo, _but that wasn’t really Manolo…Manolo was_ alive, seemed to rise from the ground, struggling with the rigor mortis in his limbs. The man leaned to the side, his head lolling a little, but those _eyes_ never left the soldier. Never once blinking. “You wanted me to die…” Manolo hissed, yet his lips never moved, hanging open in the silent scream of a corpse.

“N-no! No…I…” Joaquín stammered, his heart racing in his chest and threatening to burst from his ribcage. He was suddenly reminded of a throbbing ache in his side, and his breathing suddenly became labored. “I was upset, and angry, and I wasn’t thinking! I thought she was dead…I thought…” His throat constricted, and he found he couldn’t speak anymore.

“You said it shOULD HAVE BEEN ME!” The horrible voice of his friend boomed, and an invisible force hit Joaquín, flinging him further back and pushing him down into the ground. “YOU LEFT ME ALONE! I WAS GRIEVING JUST AS MUCH AS YOU WERE!” His friend shrieked, the terrible noise making Joaquín’s ears ring and ache. Manolo appeared to straighten, his head lolling backwards, before his limbs convulsed and twisted. “ _YOU LEFT ME TO DIE_!” Manolo’s hands balled into fists, seeming to pull at invisible bonds in the ground that were threatening to drag him down.

Joaquín shielded his face with his hand, cowering at the sight and sound of his friend. “No! I-I’m sorry! Manolo, I’m sorry! I’m sorry…” The tears were streaming down his face now, mixing with the rain that had started to pick up, the wind now howling around them in his friend’s agony. His pulse was racing out of control and he could feel his body vibrating with fear.

Manolo’s head snapped forward, his frozen eyes fixed on Joaquín. “Are you happy now, _brother_?” His voice no longer the booming shriek it had been, but something more morose. Joaquín tried to look away as the flesh started to melt off Manolo’s face and hands, reveling smooth, white bone with intricate carvings. The sight made the soldier want to retch, and a freezing shiver ran down his spine. He _wanted_ to look away, even tried to, but he was rooted to the spot. The last things to disintegrate were Manolo’s eyes, leaving two black voids in their place, yet he could still feel the piercing gaze upon him. “Is this what you wanted of me?”

Joaquín found he had lost his voice. Every time he tried to talk, nothing came out, not even a strangled sound. Instead he stared in horror at his friend, his eye wide enough to expose nearly all the white. The freezing in his bones intensified, sending waves of sharp pain through his limbs. He finally managed to regain control over his body, and shakily reached a hand out to his friend. “No, please…Manolo, I _never_ wanted this.” Suddenly his words were thrown back at him, echoing in his head ‘ _It should have, it should have, it should have_ ’.

Manolo appeared to look down at his now skeletal hand, turning it over and over again. “Is this not enough?” 

He couldn’t say anything, he could only watch as the skeletal face of his friend started to distort; a mix of despair and anguish. 

“Of course it isn’t…I was never enough as I was…and you have forgotten me…” Before Joaquín’s eyes, the shining white bones of Manolo’s hands started to grow dark, blackness creeping up his fingers, then his arms, eventually turning everything about Manolo to darkness. Green markings and highlights started to glow on his friend, accenting his clothing and the carvings in his bones. “Is this what you wanted? Is this _enough_?” His voice had become hollow and broken. Two glowing green orbs appeared in his eye sockets, and looked upon Joaquín with an endless sadness.

The way his best friend was looking at him tore his heart in two. “Manolo, _please_.” His voice cracked, thick with emotion. “I didn’t forget you… _I didn’t_.” Something at the back of his mind pulled, almost as if you say _lies, you HAVE forgotten him_ …Joaquín staggered to his feet, stumbling over to Manolo. “I can’t… _I can’t_.” _I can’t lose you again_ , the words refused to pass his lips.

Manolo shook his head slowly, and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry, brother…” His voice came out on a sigh, and he started to fall forwards.

Joaquín was there in an instant, catching his best friend, and pulling him tightly to himself. “I got you. You’re gonna be fine.” He chocked out, tasting the lie on his lips. He held Manolo close, but it sunk in quickly that his friend wasn’t breathing. _The dead didn’t have to_ , his brain so helpfully provided. That only made him hold the shorter man tighter, refusing to let him go.

Manolo huffed a soft laugh, but it was bitter and humorless. “No I’m not…I failed.” His friend finally brought his arms up and returned the embrace, but it made Joaquín’s heart ache all that much more. He felt Manolo turn his head, the skeleton’s mouth practically touching his ear, “Goodbye, Joaquín…”

He felt Manolo go limp in his arms, and his panic started to rise again. “No. No, Manolo!” But gripping onto his friend tighter did nothing as Manolo started to disintegrate into dust, the ashes of his body being blown away on the wind. “No! NO!” In the blink of an eye, Joaquín was left with nothing. A deep, aching void in his chest where his heart was made itself known. He had felt this before. This was the same near crippling pain he had felt the last time Manolo had died. _But he wasn’t dead anymore!_ his brain tried to scream at him, but after what he had just witnessed the cries went unnoticed.

Instead, his legs once again gave out and he crashed to the ground in a heap. _This couldn’t be happening again, it shouldn’t. Be. Happening_. Joaquín’s shoulders shook, but he was silent in his suffering. Manolo was gone. He was gone _again_. And he couldn’t protect him, _again_. He didn’t care that his body ached from the cold. He didn’t care that he was soaked to the bone. He just didn’t care. _This must have been what he felt like_ , Joaquín mentally mourned, _this must have been why he went back to where that damned snake was_.

The soldier half hopped the snake would come back and finish him off too.

_María_. The thought made him curl into himself. How was he going to tell María? As if on cue, the world around him spun and he was suddenly standing over María’s still form in her bedroom. Without thinking, he went through the same motions as that day…a day he would rather not think about, much less relive. Joaquín gave a gentle kiss to María’s temple and leaned back waiting for her to wake up.

Nothing happened.

Joaquín furrowed his brows, _that wasn’t right_. Maybe he just needed to wait a little longer. Yet as the minutes stretched on, María remained lying cold and still. He blinked down at his other best friend, the burning in his eyes starting all over again. “No, María…” The quiet whimper left his lips, and kneeled by the bed, knowing that he wouldn’t have been able to stand for much longer. He clasped her hand in his much larger one, her skin still just as cold as it had been on the bridge.

**_The same bridge where you pushed your friend to his death…  
_ **

The _thing_ hissed in his mind, and Joaquín didn’t have the heart to try and push it away. With Manolo gone, and María still dead…there really wasn’t anything left to feel. The soldier felt dead on the inside, anything he could have felt was gone with his best friends. Life wasn’t worth _living_ anymore. He brought María’s hand to his lips and brushed them against her knuckles. Joaquín then placed it atop her other hand and stood on shaking legs, and made his way out of the room. He didn’t want to stick around in the event she was going to come back just to yell at him.

It poured outside. The wind had gotten worse, as well as the rain. He barely even felt the sting in the drops as they hit his face. Joaquín trudged through the town with no particular destination, yet his feet once again took him across the bridge to that _god damned tree_. He leaned against the hard back, sliding down as his body grew even heavier than it already was. His cape flipped over his head on the way down, but he didn’t have the motivation to try and move it…he could still see well enough around the cloth.

He pulled his legs as close to him as they would go, burying his face in his knees. Joaquín screamed into the thin cloth, the cape still draped over his head helping to muffle the broken sound. He screamed until his lungs burned and stomach ached. He screamed until his voice went hoarse and his throat was raw. He screamed until no more sound carried on his breath. And he sat there, head in his knees like a child. 

If the ground opened up beneath him and swallowed him whole, it would be an improvement.

Joaquín heard shuffling, the hissing of a snake, and then the sound of something heavy hitting the ground with a wet _thud_. He mustered the strength to lift his head and opened his eye, only for it to widen in sheer terror.

Lying only a few feet from him was Manolo’s still form. The same anguished features on his face as when the soldier had found him earlier. He dared not move, frozen to the spot in fear.

_No, not again…please don’t let this be happening again._

* * *

It was completely dark outside when the two crossed the bridge. They had the light of the moon, and the lights of the town to help them along. They were grateful when none of the townspeople stopped and asked them where they were going with swords at their backs and hips. They weren’t going to take any chances, they were prepared for war.

K’tsal was ready and waiting for them; she held the reigns of a giant horse. As the two neared, the horse nickered softly at them, shifting it’s weight and stomping it’s front hooves excitedly. The woman said nothing as their neared, only watched their approach.

María went right up to the woman and her beast, but Manolo hung back. That horrible feeling was creeping up again, and he wanted to keep at least a little bit of distance between himself and K’tsal. 

His wife didn’t have the same concerns as he did. She easily walked up to the woman, cooing softly and talking to the horse, even going so far as to stroke it’s nose. He dared get a little closer, not wanting to be left out, but having to keep the sense of _wrongness_ at bay. Something about that horse was off, yet he couldn’t place what.

“I thought you said we needed something other than a horse?” María queried, “I mean, he’s certainly big enough. But he doesn’t look overly fast?” The horse snorted at María, shaking it’s head at the comment.

“Yes, well…I needed to get him out of the town somehow without drawing attention.” At María and Manolo’s strange looks, she merely smiled. “You’ll see.” K’tsal waved Maria back a few steps, then turned her attention to the horse. The warrior woman waved her hand in front of the large jewel on the horse’s collar and the stone began to glow. A second later, she tapped the stone and took a few steps back herself.

The smile might not have left her face, but Manolo’s sense of _wrongness_ seemed to increase for a split second. When the beast before him started to change, his eyes went wide in amazement.

The horse didn’t ever stop is excited shuffling as the shimmering glow enveloped the horse. Both Manolo and María shielded their eyes from the light, watching the previous form of the horse shift and change. Hooves became talons and paws, it’s head turned from equine to bird, it’s tail elongated and became feline, and two giant feathered wings sprouted from it’s back. Then the brightness died down to nothing but a soft glow around the jewel, and María gasped in both surprise and delight.

“A gryphon?” She took a tentative step towards the creature, and it clucked softly at her.

“Aye. Lorus has been with me since before I came to this world, he is a loyal bird.” K’tsal reached for the creature and scratched it’s neck, her hand completely disappearing into it’s feathers. The gryphon made a pleased purring sound at the attention.

María finally allowed herself to scoot close to the animal, offering out her hand to the gryphon. Manolo didn’t get a chance to try and pull her back, but his fears were eased when the gryphon cocked it’s head to the side and gazed at his wife. The creature clucked a few more times before nuzzling into María’s hand.

She laughed softly, “He’s seemed perfectly charming.” María pet Lorus on the head, making sure to go with the feathers rather than against. “So this is what you meant by ‘riding with the wind’.”

K’tsal hummed in her throat. “You’re handling this better than I thought you would.” Her gaze pointedly looked at Manolo, who was still several feet away.

María snorted, “Seeing a living breathing gryphon? I love animals, so it’s fine by me, plus I’ve always wanted to know what flying felt like.” The bird cooed softly as María found that sweet spot behind the creature’s ear that made it’s eyes go half-lidded. “Seeing your future husband explode from the ground, alive I might add, after being dead? Followed by nearly his entire family? That’s a great deal stranger I think.”

“Hey!” Manolo called, trying to sound offended, but the laugh in his voice was poorly concealed. A smile came to him, watching María play with the gryphon, but soon enough, the creature turned golden eyes on him. He stayed rooted to the spot when the creature walked over to him, Lorus’s wings seeming to fidget as the bird snuffled around Manolo’s head. He stayed as still as he could as the gryphon seemed to inspect him, but nearly jumped when the bird started to nibble and preen his hair. Lorus clucked at him, the feathers of his neck starting to tickle Manolo’s face and he gently pushed the gryphon away with soft laughter. It cocked it’s head to the side and looked at Manolo as if expecting something. With a sigh, he ran his hands through the feathers on the creature’s neck. _Ok, this wasn’t so bad_ …He was broken out of his musings when that feeling of _wrongness_ returned in full, but much worse this time. _Oh…that’s why_.

K’tsal had joined him on the other side of the gryphon, María not much farther behind. “He’s taken a liking to both of you. That’s good.” She smiled at Manolo, but the smile slowly slipped off her face. The woman seemed to be studying him, and her eyes became almost sad, “What ails you, youngling?”

_That obvious huh?_ What use was trying to hide it anymore? He was petting a gryphon for gods’ sake. He didn’t even bother trying to hide the discomfort from his face. “I…I don’t know.”

“I think he might have a version of Sight. Its more of a feeling he gets, rather than something he sees.” María offered to K’tsal, running her fingers through the gryphon’s feathers. A smirk crossed her face when the creature started to ‘purr’ again.

The woman made a sound low in her throat, looking back at Manolo. She tilted her head to the side in thought. “Do you mind if I try something? Perhaps it will help with your discomfort.”

The guitarist was hesitant at first but eventually shrugged, at this point he was willing to try anything. “If it gets us on our way faster, sure.” He hadn’t forgotten why they were there. They had a rescue mission to accomplish after all.

K’tsal looked him over one more time before sighing heavily. She closed her eyes and shook her head from side to side a few times, and in the blur of her motions her face changed. Her ears grew longer and pointed, her hair changed from raven to dark purple, and when she opened her eyes, they were glowing rubies that were slit like a cat’s. On her forehead were three jewels, one like a drop of sunlight, the others the colors of the sky when sun was rising/setting.

Manolo stared wide eyed at the woman, who after a second realized was watching him with apprehension. He didn’t blame her, if he was in her position, he’d be worried about him reacting badly as well. He blinked, and then he blinked again. The feeling of _wrongness_ was _gone_. Manolo had been right all along, K’tsal was the reason for that horrible feeling…just not for the reasons he’d suspected.

On the other side of him, María also seemed to be studying the woman’s new features. A moment passed before she shrugged, and turned her attention to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better.” He looked to K’tsal and gave her a warm smile, “Thank you.” Then thinking on something, “But why?”

K’tsal rumbled in reply, “Another time, _tal nae_.” She made a clicking sound in the back of her throat. Lorus chirped and got down on the ground. “Your time is wasting. It’s best you be off.” She stepped back, digging around in the bag at her side.

Manolo had to stare at her for a moment before he realized that half of her arm was in the bag, yet the bag wasn’t nearly big enough to allow that. He shook his head and tried not to think about it. María got on the gryphon first, settling herself in and getting comfortable. Manolo got on behind her, noticing that there was still some space between him and the creature’s broad wings.

The woman made the clicking sound again, and Lorus easily stood up with the both of them on his back. “Lorus can track you friend easily. Gryphons have a special type of sight that allow them to track a person’s energy. And he’s already met your friend before, so that won’t be a problem.” She pulled out a spherical rock that looked like it was roughly carved ruby. After a moment of holding it in her hand, the rock started to pulse with light. “Just in case.” The woman said when the couple stared at it in concern. “Now go,” K’tsal stepped back, and a sudden wind began to pick up around them. It increased in force, concentrated around the gryphon and the beast was soon being lifted into the air. The wind began to push them out into the direction of the desert, the creature’s large wings beating with it to gather greater height and speed. “Good luck!” K’tsal’s voice carried on the wind as they set off in search for their friend.

María looked over her shoulder at him, “No retreat?”

“No surrender.” He answered automatically. María nodded and looked forward once more. Manolo turned around and watched as San Ángel quickly grew smaller and smaller, until it was nothing but a speck of light in the distance. “She wasn’t kidding when she said he’d be fast.” He commented quietly, turning back around and looking over his wife’s shoulder.

“The faster we find Joaquín, the better.” María said, grasping onto the reigns even thought she didn’t need to. She laughed softly when Manolo’s arms wrapped around her waist.

Manolo hummed in agreement, but something pulled at his gut. He knew they were going to find their friend, but he was worried about what state he was going to be in when they got there. Joaquín had a habit of putting himself in danger, and now that he didn’t have the medal to keep him safe…he shuddered at the thought. _Try and stay positive_ , he thought, _we won’t know until we get there_. He only hoped they got there quickly, the feeling in his gut worrying him.

* * *

Joaquín jerked awake, his breathing labored and his eye darting around his surroundings. His side was still aching, and he realized it felt harder to breath, the slight rasping sound to his breaths concerning. He’d been moved while he was having…nightmares. At least he prayed they were nightmares. 

He was now sitting next to the table, still bound to the chair. A rhythmic _thunking_ noise came from his left and he turned his head to see what it was.

Elísa was watching him like a hawk, repeatedly stabbing her dagger into the table, each time pulling several splinters with it. Judging by the table, she’d been at it for a while. Her posture disagreed with her actions; her feet were propped up on the table, crossed at the ankle, and she was reclining in the chair she was sitting in. Her features were for the most part unreadable, only the ghost of a frown showing itself.

They were in a staring contest. Joaquín didn’t say anything, just focused on his breathing. His entire face was aching, and he was sure that if he looked in a mirror, it would also be swollen and discolored. Really, he was lucky that he could still see well out of his eye with the beating she had given him. As he calmed his racing heart, he noticed that he was cold and clammy, the sweat that clung to him making his uniform scratchy and uncomfortable. _He needed to find a way out, a means of escape_.

Suddenly the rhythmic _thunking_ stopped, and Joaquín focused his vision on Elísa. A sadistic grin crept across her lips, “I rather enjoyed the show…too bad you couldn’t have seen yourself.” She pulled the dagger from the wood once more and became incredibly interested in the tip, twirling it between her fingers. “Though…I am a little confused.” Elísa pulled her feet from the table and leaned over her knees, staring closely at Joaquín, the dagger still clasped in her hands. 

The curiosity in her eyes was deadly, as if she knew some dark, hidden secret that the soldier wasn’t aware of yet. “I had known you were close to your…friends…but I didn’t know you were _that_ close. It’s disgusting, really.” She brought the dagger up and tapped the tip of the blade against her lips, as if in thought. “I had gathered very quickly that you loved the woman. That was obvious enough to see. Easy enough to target.” She waved the dagger around like she was dismissing the idea. “But I had _no_ idea about the man…that was surprising. What was it that you were whimpering? Ah, yes…’No Manolo, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry. Please, please.’” She sneered at that, “Positively vile.”

Joaquín clenched his fists and the muscles in his jaw twitched. _What was she talking about? Had he been saying things out loud when he was having nightmares?_ That was terrifying in and of itself, that she could see everything on his face, and hear everything he said. _Maybe they weren’t nightmares, but hallucinations_. That was even _worse_. He blinked, and finally noticed that tight feeling of dried tears against his skin. _Shit, he’d completely broken down in front of this psychopath_. He didn’t have time to stop himself before the words were pouring out of his mouth. “You leave them alone…They have nothing to do with this.”

Elísa cackled, the abrupt sound causing Joaquín to jump. “They have _everything_ to do with this. Besides, they’re already involved in a way.” The sadistic grin showed itself again, “I _told_ you, I’m going to take away everything. You. _Love._ ” She leaned back in her chair, looking smug and waiting for her words to sink in.

It finally hit Joaquín, and his breath wooshed out of him in realization. “No. No!” He struggled against the bonds, but the rope gave no quarter. “Leave them out of this, they’ve done nothing to you!”

She shrugged, appearing uncaring. Her voice was light but filled with venom. “Too late.”

“ _You don’t go near them_.” Joaquín growled, his eye flashing green for an instance, but it went unnoticed by the woman. He jerked his body and for the first time felt the chair he was in groan, yet held him fast. **_  
_**

**_Give in. Give in to me_**. 

Joaquín violently shoved mentally at the voice in his head, and it laughed as it fell away. He continued to struggle against his bonds, his muscles starting to protest from the force.

In a flash, both in speed and of a blade, she stabbed him in the thigh, the blade going in to the hilt. A scream bubbled in his chest, but he locked it away in his throat, the only thing to indicate his pain was the short, heavy breaths through is nose. “You don’t make the rules here, _I do_!” She pressed further, even though the blade was fully lodged in his thigh, only to intensify his pain. “I told you I was going to make you suffer, and it hasn’t even _begun_ yet.” Elísa twisted the blade, and he could feel the edge scraping against the bone.

This time he did cry out, but he muffled it as much as he could though clenched teeth. The muscles in his thigh wanted to jump and twist away, but there was nowhere to go…and he didn’t want to risk more damage being done if he could help it. _This isn’t how it was supposed to end_ , he thought bitterly to himself, _he wasn’t supposed to die in some godforsaken cave at the mercy of a mad woman_.

**_You won’t die until you make her pay…she MUST pay. She wants to take credit for your kills. They are yours to deal with, not HERS. GIVE IN TO ME._**

The _thing_ clawed at his mind, but he ignored it, giving it another forceful shove away. 

It hissed and struggled. **_I can HELP you kill HER. MAKE HER_ PAY**!

With a sickening squelch, she pulled the dagger from his thigh. Joaquín grunted, not sure what was worse, having the dagger go in, or having it pulled out. Either way, his thigh was now throbbing in pain, blood starting to leak over the wound. He did his best to ignore it, keeping his sight away from the shining redness…but he could still smell the copper, and it made it stomach knot and turn.

Elísa looked down at the dagger with little interest, deciding that it was simply easier to wipe the blood off on Joaquín’s uniform. She made a show of it, making sure to press the blade into him as she cleaned off the dagger. The woman sighed, “Patience…”

Joaquín wasn’t sure who she was talking to, but either way he didn’t like it.

“They aren’t coming for you, you know.” Elísa added softly, her voice full of concern, but the soldier knew that it was completely feigned. She made one last glance at the dagger before sheathing it in her boot.

“You’re…lying…” He grunted out, the pain in his side coupled with the pain in his leg making it hard enough to focus. Now with the _thing_ trying to get at him, it was even harder to concentrate.

She gazed at him sadly, almost with hesitance to tell him. “I still have men in the town, and I’ve received word that they haven’t even _noticed_ you’ve gone missing.” She sighed again as if in pity. “It’s been over a day and a half, and they haven’t thought you missing yet. No one has.”

_It’s not true_ , he wanted to say but he couldn’t make himself do it. He had been _purposely_ trying to stay away from his friends these past few weeks. So really, this was his own fault. Of _course_ they wouldn’t notice if he’d only been gone for a day and a half…they might not even look in the next several, depending on how deep the hole he dug for himself was. _  
_

_What had he done?_ Because of his stupid worries and insecurities, he had distanced himself from his friends when he should have done to opposite. _Gods, if he made it out of here alive, he wasn’t going to make that mistake again._ He looked the woman dead in the eye, “They’ll notice, and they’ll come for me. Just you wait.”

Elísa hummed in her throat, but Joaquín knew she was only humoring him. She laced her fingers together and reclined against her chair again. “I highly doubt that.” Her eyes danced dangerously, and a cold shiver of fear ran down his spine.

His attention was broken away from Elísa when one of her men jogged around the cave corner. She turned around in her chair, and narrowed her eyes at the man. “It’s done.”

“About damn time.” Elísa sneered, waving her hand at the table. “You know how I get impatient over these things…”

The bandit nodded his head, but Joaquín could see the very real fear in his eyes. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket and placed it on the table, before making a quick and speedy retreat. Joaquín tried to see what had been placed on the table, but Elísa snatched them up before he could get a good look.

Her hum was pleased, and she turned cold eyes onto Joaquín. “Oh, so sorry. I guess I should have told you earlier.” She then revealed what she had in her hand, holding up two long white feathers that appeared to have been dragged through something.

Joaquín’s stomach plummeted. Dried blood. It wasn’t completely dry, it still had a dull sheen, but he could easily tell that it was blood nonetheless.

Elísa’s grin continued to grow, her teeth bared dangerously. “I sent my best men to go…take care of them.” Her face twisted into something devilish in her glee. “They must have put up a good fight for it to have taken so long. Pity I couldn’t have seen it myself, but I had more…pressing matters to attend to.” 

She finally stood, reaching out to run her fingers down the side of his face, he didn’t even try to pull away from her calloused fingers. Elísa stepped away, and turned to leave, shouting down the rocky hallway. “Watch him. If he starts to get out of line, put him back in his place…I plan on using him for target practice later.” And with that, she was gone. Replacing her were two large bandits that might as well have been bodyguards.

He growled low in his throat, but the sound was broken. His hands were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. The deadening ache he had felt in his chest in his nightmares came back with a vengeance. His entire body was numb, save for what little pain he could still feel from his injuries. He blocked out everything, even Elísa and retreated into his mind.

The _thing’s_ presence came back, but it seemed calmer and less demanding. His mind felt something akin to a caress on his consciousness. 

**_I can help you…let me in_**. 

Joaquín mentally shook himself, but didn’t attempt to push the thing away. 

**_I can help you get out of here…help you escape, and get your revenge at the same time_**. 

He still refused to acknowledge the _thing_. It seemed to sigh. 

**_Let me in_**.

Yes, he wanted to get out of this hellhole. Yes, he wanted to make Elísa pay for what she had done to him…done to his friends…and he didn’t see another way to do that without gaining help from… _it_. Joaquín’s mind and body were tired, much like his near broken spirit. At this point, he really didn’t care what happened to him. He mentally sighed in resignation, ‘ _Only if I have control_ …’

The _thing_ was silent, but he could still feel it lurking in his head. Several long minutes passed before it gave a huff, reading his thoughts. **_  
_**

**_Agreed._ **

The soldier let out a breath, mumbling his response, “What do I have to do?”

**_Relax your mind, let me in._ **

And he did. It was a strange feeling to say the least. All of the aches and pains his body was feeling completely disappeared, and he felt a rush of energy flow through him. Something about his vision changed, it became clearer and sharper. He felt stronger than he ever had in his life, even with the medal. Joaquín flexed his hands and the chair he was sitting in groaned again. His eye darted to the two thugs by the entrance to his small cave room, seeing the glinting of his swords just passed them. _That was stupid of them_ , his mind laughed, _leaving his weapons in plain sight_.

Joaquín didn’t even bother with testing his new found strength out, pressing and pulling against the chair in one swift movement and shattering the wooden frame completely. He could feel the splinters digging into his skin, but there was no pain and he paid it no mind, brushing the rope from his wrists. The two goons definitely noticed him now, rushing over to subdue him. 

They never got the chance. With movements quicker than Joaquín thought he was ever capable of, he dodged one of their swords, and punched the man in the face, instantly knocking him out. The second one screamed for help before taking a swipe at the soldier. This one was lucky, and managed to get a cut on Joaquín’s still extended arm, only for the blade to be ripped from his hand. He quickly turned the sword around and struck the man in the side of the temple with the pommel, and the bandit slumped to the ground.

He dropped the sword, retrieving his own in several strides. Attaching them to the bandoleer slots on his back, he drew his weapons and waited for the next round of bandits. Joaquín knew that none would attack from behind him, it was a dead end. That only left ones coming from the tight corridor in front of him. For right now, it was better to wait for the waves to come, taking the bandits out as they came, rather than risk running in and getting surrounded. Here, there was limited fighting space, and with the bottleneck, odds were in his favor.

And they definitely came. They rounded the corner ready to beat the ever-living from him, only to skid to a stop and gaze at him in fear. He didn’t understand why, but he also didn’t care. The bandits easily got over their fear and attacked him. Only a few had swords, he noticed, most had daggers and throwing knives. He took out the ones with the swords first, thinking they were going to be his biggest threat. Joaquín soon found that was a mistake. While the sword wielding bandits were more powerful and had better reach, they weren’t as fast. 

Several times while taking out the ones with swords he would feel his skin ripping on one of his arms, or near his neck, or his torso, knowing that he had been cut or stabbed. There was no pain, but it hovered in the back of his mind what was happening to him. How much time did he have? He knew that he could only get injured so much before his body finally gave out.

**_That is my concern, not yours_**. The thing hissed, urging him to move forward and prepare for the next wave.

It didn’t take very long before several of the bandits started to fire what few guns they had at him. He ignored them as best he could, pushing forward and disarming them quickly. He rounded the corner after the last wave was lying at his feet, the body count rising. _They aren’t dead_ , he silently hoped, not knowing if he was doing severe damage or not. It was slightly unnerving how many he had already been able to take out in such a short amount of time.

_There_! His mind shouted at him, spotting Elísa behind another group of bandits. She didn’t look pleased, maybe even a little scared once she got a good look at him. _No matter, soon enough she’ll be taken care of.  
_

His attention was returned to the bandits attacking him. One of them fired a shot at him, and instinctively he brought up his sword to block, only for the weapon to be struck by the projectile and shatter. Shards of sword blew back at him, cutting his face and neck. He paid it no mind, throwing the hilt at the offending bandit. What was left of the sword stuck into the bandit’s shoulder, and the man screamed as he went down, clutching the wound.

Joaquín was starting to loose himself in the heat of battle, his blows starting to hit more and more to kill, and less to wound or knock out. He punched, kicked and slashed his way through the bandits, only one goal ringing in his mind. Get to Elísa. A bandit somehow snuck behind him, and he felt the pressure of something going into his upper back. He whirled around, backhanding the offending bandit, and the man flew into the wall and became still. What bandits were left, took advantage of his momentary distraction, a group rushing him to try and take him down. 

They were unsuccessful. With a guttural roar - _had that sound really come out of his mouth?_ \-  that didn’t even sound human, he pushed them all back. The few that had gotten too close having their middles slashed open. Joaquin grabbed another that hadn’t retreated fast enough around the collar and hauled him up with his free hand, effortlessly throwing him across the cave as if he weighed nothing.

Distant shouts reached his ears, but it didn’t connect with his brain until two figures ran into the fray on the other side of the melee. Time seemed to slow to a stop when his eye landed on them, and his body stilled. His brain must have been playing tricks on him again, _there was no way that_ …time resumed its normal speed, and he felt himself get stabbed in the side. With a grunt, he twisted around and quickly dispatched the bandit who had stabbed him.

There, on the other side of the fray, fighting the bandits were Manolo and María.

* * *

They had been in the air for what felt like hours. María was starting to get anxious, and behind her Manolo was starting to fidget. Lorus seemed to know what they were feeling, turning his head to the side and clucking softly at them. María sighed, but offered the bird a smile, scratching him on the neck. They must have been getting close, they were definitely going faster than if they had taken horses. But that didn’t make waiting any better. _Please let him be alright_.

“María, look!” Manolo pointed over her shoulder, a distant light rapidly growing closer.

Lorus let out a cry, confirming what they had been thinking. The bird rapidly descended, the two holding on for dear life. Manolo started screaming in her ear when it looked like they were going to crash into the ground, María for a split second thought of joining him when Lorus started beating his wings, slowing their descent. The gryphon hit the ground and immediately started running towards the light, letting out a screeching cry.

Manolo’s grip around her waist tightened, the running gait of the gryphon strange and jerkier than a horse. María grasped the reigns as tightly as she could, doing her best to stay balanced on the creature. Not far off, Lorus slowed down and stopped altogether, crouching down so that they could dismount. They could see from here there were guards patrolling the mouth of a cave carved into the base of a large rock formation.

María looked at Manolo and he nodded, unsheathing the swords on his back and getting ready to run in. María gripped her own sword, already in her hand. _Time to go rescue their friend_. Next to her Lorus was shifting his weight and scratching at the ground, cocking his head back and forth, as if waiting for her to do something. It dawned on her that this was a gryphon that belonged to a soldier…maybe he wanted to join in the fight with them. Manolo was watching her strangely, wanting to get the fight over and done with so they could return home with Joaquín. “You want to help us?” She asked the gryphon.

Lorus shuffled some more, clucking softly in return, his head still in the direction of the cave. His talons continued to scratch the ground, and María understood it was an anxious motion. She smiled kindly at the bird, giving him one last scratch under his chin. “Go for it.” Lorus chirped at her, shaking his head before running full speed towards the front of the cave, the creature crying out a whistling shriek. He got off the ground by only a foot or two, just enough to glide up and startle the guards at the front of the cave.

They heard the men screaming at the gryphon, but the beast easily took care of the bandits. Sharing a look, the couple decided that Lorus was both back up and clean up, and they rushed forward. ‘No retreat! No surrender!’ passed their lips as they avoided the writhing bodies pinned beneath the gryphon, dodging the creatures tail and wings as well. They made it into the cave and were greeted by several bandits.

María went left when Manolo went right, the two of them attacking the first bandits they saw. Maria blocked a blow and flipped the man over her hip, before taking him out with a kick to the head. Manolo struck first, using his advantage of two blades to occupy the bandit with one sword while he used the other to sweep the man’s legs out from under him. When the bandit went down, Manolo took a pommel to the man’s head, knocking him out. They were both incredibly careful not to severely harm any of the bandits, after all this was a rescue mission, not a raid.

They could hear screaming from further in the cave, and a woman shouting orders over the din. _Elísa_ , María thought with a growl. That was one person she didn’t mind roughing up. She and Manolo worked together to get through the waves of bandits, eventually making their way to the main part of the cave. Knowing they had a gryphon at their back, she wasn’t concerned about someone attacking them from behind…Lorus had probably taken care of anyone back there by now.

They were halted when a bandit flew in front of them, slamming into the rock wall. He slumped down and didn’t get up. María peeked her head around a corner to get a look at the battle, but whipped her head back and pressed herself against the wall. _Oh gods, Joaquín_.

“María? What’s wrong?” He was looking at her with worry, the panic must have been clear on her face.

She nodded her head around the corner, and he crept around her to look. María heard him gasp, before also pressing himself against the wall next to her. His eyes were wide and she could see the pain behind them. She felt that same pain too.

The glimpse that she had caught of the soldier wasn’t pretty. His eye was glowing that sickening green color, but that wasn’t the worst part. He was cut up, bruised, and bloodied…several of the wounds looking pretty horrific…but that wasn’t the worst part either. No, that was the beastly snarl plastered on his face. Joaquín looked _demonic_. They needed to do something, and fast, or they stood the risk of not making it out alive.

María looked at her husband, it he appeared to be struggling to keep it together. She felt her heart breaking, both at the sight of Manolo and of Joaquín. _Now wasn’t the time_. “Ready?” She supposed the only good thing here was that there were few bandits left standing. That should make it a little easier.

At his nod, they both ran around the corner, and started to fight the bandits from their side. She tried to ignore the bellows coming from Joaquín, they didn’t sound human and it caused her blood to run cold. She and Manolo fought back to back, easily dispatching the bandits that tried to get close to them. María gained a few cuts here and there, and so did Manolo, but they never stopped fighting.

“That’s it!” Elísa shouted over the battle, but neither could see the vile woman.

“Manolo! NO!” María heard Joaquín shout, and she turned to the sound, her eyes widening as she saw the soldier barreling towards them. Time seemed to slow down. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Manolo stiffen, turning towards his friends voice. _When had they gotten separated?_ Her husband was no longer right next to her, but several feet away. Joaquín was running at them, the sheer terror on his face causing her own heart to stop in her chest. She watched as the soldier collided with Manolo, pushing him down and away, skidding to a halt and turning towards another part of the cave.

A shot rang out, and to her horror, saw the bullet collide and pass through Joaquín’s stomach. He didn’t even seem to notice. His face twisted into that feral sneer again and slowly, almost too calmly, walked in the direction of the shot. Another shot sounded, followed by another. Only one of them hit the soldier that she could see, clipping him near his side, the material of his jacket the only indication to María he had been hit. With a beastly growl, Joaquín slashed at Elísa once he was close enough, the woman falling back on the ground and clutched at her stomach. He must have barely grazed her, because María didn’t see any blood immediately and she had enough strength to stand up instantly.

Next to her Manolo groaned, but stood up, rubbing at his side. He was soon rooted to the spot, watching the scene in front of him unfold. The couple watched in growing horror as Joaquín dropped his sword and grabbed Elísa, hauling her off the ground like a ragdoll. In retaliation, the woman grabbed her dagger and plunged it into Joaquín’s shoulder.

María gasped, and covered her mouth with her free hand, tears pricking her eyes. Her sword hand drooped, the tip of the blade touching the rocky floor. _He didn’t even notice…he was stabbed and didn’t even notice_.

“What’s he doing?” Manolo breathed, both of his arms seeming to go weak as well.

Joaquín didn’t even make a sound when he was stabbed, nor did he react. Instead, his hand shot out and wrapped around Elísa’s throat. María and Manolo saw the woman start to struggle, fiercely, as her air supply was cut off. Another inhuman snarl could be heard and it snapped María and Manolo out of their stupor.

“Joaquín!” María called, but the man didn’t react. Manolo also called his name with the same result. Thinking quickly María sheathed her sword and rushed towards her friend, skidding to a halt when she saw his entire body stiffen, and then relax.

Elísa dropped to the ground, coughing and gasping for breath, clutching at her neck.

María scurried to the other side of Joaquín, planning on taking care of Elísa. She could hear Manolo practically behind her, grabbing hold of Joaquín and trying to talk him. 

María looked back at the woman who had caused so much pain and growled, hauling her up to snarl in her face, “I’ve wanted to do this _since I met you_.” She hauled back her arm and punched Elísa across her jaw, the woman’s head snapping back. María dropped the sorry excuse of a human on the ground, feeling pleased with herself for knocking her out, as short lived as it was. She had more important things to worry about now.

_Joaquín_ …

The soldier appeared frozen where he stood, his arms hanging limply at his sides. María felt her heart give a painful lurch. He looked even worse up close. There were numerous cuts all over his face, some bleeding, some already starting to coagulate. The bruises were concerning, as well as the leaking cuts on his neck. His uniform was ripped in several places, mostly from blades…two from bullets. The bullet wound in his stomach was bleeding heavily, already soaking through his jacket and staining a large red circle around the wound. She noticed another particularly bad stab wound in his leg, and she wondered briefly how he was still standing on such an injury. His eye was still glowing green, but it wasn’t as bright as it had been. In fact, it looked like the glow was dying, returning to it’s normal state.

Once the glow was completely gone, the soldier slumped forward, his wounds suddenly seeming to bear down on him. Luckily, Manolo was there to steady the taller man, but even her husband appeared to be struggling a little. She quickly rushed to Joaquín’s other side, and took some of the man’s weight off of Manolo.

Joaquín took in a shuddering breath, stumbling a little when they started to help him walk. “You…you’re really here? You guys came…for me?”

The sound was so small and broken, It made María tear up again. “Of course we’re here you big goofball!”

“We’d never leave you behind, brother.” Manolo agreed, seeming to get his footing back under him and better support Joaquín’s weight.

“What…what about…” The soldier trailed off with a hiss, the look on his face telling the two he was in extreme pain.

“We’ll deal with her later, but we _will_ deal with her. Right now we need to get you taken care of.” María said gently, helping him maneuver around all the fallen bandits.

“Me? I’m fine…really, I’ll be good…at some point.” Joaquín tried to laugh it off, but ended up coughing instead. He tried to hide it, but María and Manolo could hear his labored breathing, and see a few specks of blood coating his lips when he coughed.

“Hush, save your strength.” Manolo chided softly, taking over supporting Joaquín as María ran ahead to check and see where their back up was.

“Where…?” Joaquín tried to ask, but Manolo shushed him again.

“She’s looking for our ride back to San Ángel.” The guitarist chuckled, slowly continuing to make progress with Joaquín to the mouth of the cave.

María came jogging back and repositioned herself at Joaquín’s side. “He’s waiting for us, c’mon.” 

The three moved a little more quickly now that María was back helping the soldier to walk. She tried to ignore the slight dampness in her side where she was pressed up against Joaquín, knowing that if she looked down it would be stained with his blood. 

The walk out of the cave seemed to get harder as the three got closer to Lorus, and María was starting to worry it was because Joaquín was losing his strength. “Just a little father…”

“Uh, guys? Are…are you seeing that too?” Joaquín wheezed as they practically dragged him over to Lorus. At the sound of his voice, the gryphon perked up, trotting over to the three. He specifically looked Joaquín over, clucking and chirping at the soldier. The sounds were almost sad and fretful. The gryphon even nibbled at his hair, before nuzzling at his shoulder. He blinked, looking at the gryphon, noticing the collar around it’s neck. His face screwed up in confusion. “Weren’t you a horse last time I saw you?” Lorus only clucked at him in response.

“Apparently, he was never really a horse to begin with.” Manolo muttered. The guitarist made a clicking sound, and the gryphon obediently crouched down to the ground.

María nodded to her husband, letting him know he should get on first. Then she could help Joaquín get on the gryphon, and she could hop on afterwards. Manolo didn’t have any trouble, but it was bit of a struggle to get Joaquín up on the beast, even with Manolo pulling him up and María pushing. Once the soldier was settled in front of Manolo, María mounted in front of Joaquín, grabbing the reigns and making the same clicking sound her husband had before.

Lorus stood up, and headed for the rock face, climbing up the wall some to get enough height for take off. This time they didn’t have whatever strange wind as before to help them get in the air, and the gryphon launched himself from the rock face with a jerking motion, that caused Joaquín to be pressed against Manolo.

* * *

The soldier tried to pull away from Manolo, but the guitarist wrapped an arm around the man’s waist and held him tight. “Just relax, I’ll keep you steady.” After a moment or two, Manolo pulled his hand back to see his palm covered in blood. With a strangled sound, and trying not to jar Joaquín too much, he took off his jacket and folded it up before pressing it tightly to the soldier’s front, keeping it in place with his arm once again around his friend’s front.

Now that they were flying, the air rushed past them, but he didn’t notice the cold. Instead Joaquín provided a wind barrier for the smaller man, and Manolo found comfort in his warmth. He knew the soldier wasn’t in good condition when he didn’t even put up a fight, merely slumped against him. It hurt, more than he thought it would, to see his best friend in that kind of condition. And after seeing what had happened to him, what Joaquín did to _protect_ them. Something inside Manolo twisted painfully, and it only got worse as he listened to his friends struggling breaths. “You saved my life…again.”

Joaquín tried to chuckle, but ended up coughing halfway through it. He still managed to smile, though, and Manolo tried to ignore the fact that he could see red staining his friend’s teeth. “I’m the hero…it’s…it’s what I…do.” He closed his eye for a moment, a moment that seemed to stretch on far too long for Manolo, and then opened it again. “I’m…just glad…you’re ok, buddy.” Joaquín lethargically placed one of his hands over Manolo’s around his waist.

Manolo made a pained, strangled sound in his throat, but welcomed the touch nonetheless. He swallowed thickly, “Yeah, it sure is.” Manolo did chuckle then, even though he felt like crying. He wasn’t an idiot. He could plainly see the shape his friend was in. He knew they only had a limited amount of time to get back to the town before…before it was too late. Manolo shuddered, not wanting to think about that end scenario. He took in a shaking breath, for a moment thinking it sounded like Joaquín’s troubled breathing and spoke again, trying to keep his voice light. “Of course I’m ok. I have Joaquín, the legendary hero of San Ángel, around to help me out of trouble.”

Joaquín smiled at that, and his eye became half lidded. “Nah…you can…keep yourself…out of trouble…for the most part.” He took in another breath that was more like a wheeze and closed his eye again, but there was a smile on his lips, “And if not…then María will…” The smile slowly slipped from his face. “Manny…’m tired…”

Manolo’s features twisted at that, “I know, brother, I know…but you gotta stay awake a while longer, alright?” _Keep him talking; don’t let him close his eye_ … because it might be for good. So he kept Joaquín talking. Stupid things, small talk, anything and everything he could think of off the top of his head to try and keep him from _slipping_.

As their flight stretched on, Joaquín’s responses started to become slower and slower, the soldier taking more time to answer and respond. Manolo didn’t like the paleness that had started to seep into his friends face, made even more pale and unnatural in the moonlight. 

In the time they had been in the air, Joaquín had managed to slump boneless against Manolo, the soldier’s head resting against Manolo’s shoulder. He tried to ignore how his friends breaths were becoming shallow, and slower. Joaquín’s grip on his arm had loosened slowly over the course of time, and it only added to the rising panic in Manolo.

Joaquín turned his head so that it was practically in Manolo’s neck, the cold clamminess of his skin making his friend jump at the contact. “Mm…you’re warm…m’ cold.” The last words were slightly slurred and barely above a whisper.

“We’ll get you warmed up soon enough.” Manolo choked out, firming his grip on his friend, wrapping his other arm around the soldier’s middle. Joaquín was still warm against him, but the blazing heat he normally put off wasn’t there. He also tried to ignore the wetness on his clothing that now took up his entire front. He knew what it was without even looking, and his stomach continued to plummet at the thought of what that could mean. 

He didn’t get any response from Joaquín, and looking down at his friend, noticed that his eye had fallen shut. Manolo shook his friend gently, then with increasing force in order to wake him up. Slowly Joaquín’s eye opened, but it was unfocused. Desperation flared in his gut and he called out, “María, we’re losing him!”

María cursed, leaning over and talking in with rushed words to the gryphon. In an instant, Lorus cried, and a sudden and forceful wind picked up at their back, pushing them forward with greater speed. She looked back over her shoulder, and Manolo could only see one of her eyes, but it was enough. It was wide and shiny, threatening to shed tears at any moment.

“C’mon, stay with me, stay with me…” Manolo repeated like a mantra, “I know you’re tired, but you have to stay awake. Please, Joaquín, stay with me.”

Joaquín groaned, trying to move his head, but the effort appeared too much to muster. “Man..ny…” Joaquín spoke, his voice sounding tired and weak. “Need…need…tell…you…”

“You need to tell me something,” Manolo rushed, “What do you need to tell me?” He tilted his head so he could better hear what Joaquín was saying. The increased wind was making it hard enough as it was without the softness of which his friend was speaking.

“I…” Joaquín trailed off, his eye once again closing. Manolo was about to shaking him again, but his friends brows knit like he was trying to get the words out but they weren’t coming. “Lo…ove…Man…ny.”

Manolo held his friend tighter to him, finding Joaquín’s hand and gripping it. _It was so cold…it should never be so cold._ “I know, I know…” He tried to keep his voice as even as he could, closing his eyes tightly against the burning behind them. “I love you too, brother. You know that.”

Joaquín’s eye still didn’t open, but confusion pulled at his features. “N…no…?” The man took another shuddering breath, trying to bury his head into Manolo’s neck. “So…warm…” He let out a sigh.

He tried to wake his friend again, but he was unresponsive. Manolo shook him a little harder. Still nothing. His throat closed off, the burning behind his eyes starting to make his vision swim. Maria called his name, it sounded so far away. He looked up in her direction anyway, and just past her he could see the town quickly coming into view.

The powerful wind surrounding them dissipated as they neared, the gryphon taking over flight. The heavy beat of the creature’s wings sounded as she passed over the bridge into the town, and over the buildings. They circled once, before they started their descent, coming in quicker with the narrower streets of the town, and Lorus not being able to fully stretch his wings in the tight space. They hit the ground harder than they had prepared for and Lorus took off at a run. He weaved in and out of streets, seeming to know where he was going. They were grateful that there were no stray townspeople around to see the sight of the three heroes of San Ángel riding a gryphon through the streets at some unknown hour of the night.

Lorus slowed down as they approached a building, and María instantly recognized it as Joaquín’s home. As soon as the bird stopped, she jumped off and turned around to help Manolo with Joaquín, but stopped dead in her tracks.

Manolo was holding Joaquín to him, the soldier’s body limp in his arms. The guitarist was still clutching onto Joaquín, but his head was bowed over the man’s shoulder. María gasped and covered her mouth, and her knees suddenly felt very weak and unable to support her weight. Joaquín was pale and unmoving, his eye closed and his jaw slack. Red blossomed over almost ever inch of the front of his jacket, staining the material and everything that touched it. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, only to reach out and gently touch Manolo’s arm, only for him to jump at her touch.

The couple shared a watery look, and Manolo shook his head to confirm her worst fear. “He’s gone…we didn’t get there in time.”

 


	7. Now is Forever

_No_. They couldn’t be too late, _they couldn’t_ …As much as she didn’t want it to be true, María knew that it was. She could _feel_ it. The tears that were threatening to fall before now rolled down her cheeks, and she leaned against Manolo, burying her face into his sleeve. She could feel him shaking as well, silently sobbing over the loss of their friend. María felt Manolo shift his arm under her head, lifting it to wrap it tightly around her shoulders instead. Her throat was burning along with her eyes, and she wanted to scream…even though she knew it wouldn’t do them any good.

In their grief, they missed Lorus perking up, his long, feathered ears swiveling towards the door to Joaquín’s home. The door burst open from the inside, and K’tsal appeared in the doorway. When neither Manolo or María reacted to her presence, she spoke up, “Why are you still out here? _Get him inside!_ ”

Manolo looked up, red and puffy eyes mustering up as much of a glare in his current state. “We were too late! He’s gone…” His face fell back into despair, pulling María closer into him. “Please…just leave us alone. Let us grieve in peace.” He had just closed his eyes, letting a new wave of tears run down his face when a loud snarling growl startled him, causing him to jump. He blinked owlishly at the woman in the doorway.

Her eyes had narrowed, her pupils thinning to dangerous slits. “Not if I can help it.” K’tsal growled, throwing open both doors. “Come, bring him inside.” When neither of them moved, looking at her like she was speaking insanity, she growled at them again, “Hurry! We only have a limited amount of time!”

The couple shared a confused, but tentatively hopeful glance, before jumping into action. María helped Manolo move Joaquín off the gryphon, and as soon as Manolo had his feet on the ground, he scooped up the soldier and practically ran into the mansion, María hot on his heels. 

K’tsal was already up the grand staircase, waiting from them at the top. Manolo took the stairs two at a time, Joaquín’s weight not even registering to him. Behind him, he could hear Lorus let out a cry, the sound of talons clacking on the marbled tile echoing against the walls. A gust of wind shot past them, and he distantly heard the doors slamming shut.

As he continued to run after the soldier woman, his mind screamed at him that it was impossible to bring the dead back to life…yet he was a living testament that it could be done. _Any_ chance to see his friend again, he would gladly take.

“In here!” K’tsal shouted from inside a large and lavish room.

Manolo rushed into the room, recognizing it as Joaquín’s. He remembered coming here a few times when they were children, but it barely looked lived in. The guitarist rushed over to the bed, laying his friend down at K’tsal’s instruction. He stepped back and ran into something large and feathered. Turning his head, he saw that Lorus had followed them up, and the bird cooed and clucked at him.

K’tsal was on the other side of the bed, pulling out the strange pulsing stone again. She looked down at the soldier and frowned, “His jacket and shirt need to be taken off.”

María didn’t need to be told twice, and she immediately ripped off the man’s bandoleers. Manolo was only a step behind, helping her to unbutton Joaquín’s jacket, made heavy by all the medals adorning it. The material was tossed aside once it had been removed from the man’s body, the shirt making a too loud clatter in the near silent room. Manolo pulled the stained undershirt over his friend’s head, trying to be a gentle as possible, even though Joaquín couldn’t feel it.

When Joaquín’s shirt had been pulled away, María gasped and had to cover her mouth. After her eyes quickly glanced around the man’s torso, she looked away, fresh tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.

Joaquín’s chest was a mess. There wasn’t one space of skin that wasn’t covered in a thick layer of blood. His skin was littered with multiple slash and stab wounds, and María could also clearly see where he had been shot…more than once. And it wasn’t just his chest, his arms were also in bad shape, covered in thin, angry red marks. The dark redness was a stark contrast to the paleness in the soldier’s face. 

The other concerning thing was the black mark over Joaquín’s heart; it appeared to be moving on his skin, and she got a horrible feeling when she looked at it.

_Gods, how had he lasted as long as he did?_ She thought, looking through the blurriness at her friend. Next to the bed, Manolo appeared to be having the same thoughts, his face was slack and his eyes were impossibly wide. He still had Joaquín’s under shirt gripped in his hand, his knuckles white…or they would have been had they not been covered in Joaquín’s blood.

K’tsal ushered them back with a wave of her hand, the stone in her hand pulsing more quickly now, the light it gave off brighter that the last time they had seen it. She leaned over Joaquín, slowly placing the blood red stone over his heart. As soon as the stone had made contact with the soldier’s skin, K’tsal retracted her hand in a flash.

Manolo and María waited with baited breath for something to happen, watching their friend with wide eyes. Her stomach started to sink when the stone’s light and pulse went quiet. They both stared for long minutes as nothing continued to happen. She gripped onto Manolo’s arm in a vice grip, her already shaking legs threatening to go out from under her.

Next to her, Manolo shifted. His hand found hers and they locked together, the grip near painful for both. They were shaking, being able to feel the tremors running through the other’s body. Manolo swallowed thickly, and attempted to make his voice work. “What’s happening?”

K’tsal had her eyes closed, and they could see her long ears twitching, as if straining to hear something. After another silent moment, her eyes snapped open, her pupils even thinner than before, barely a black slit to be seen in a sea of ruby. “Nothing…I can’t hear his heart beat. _Kusz!_ ” The word was harsh and rough.

María assumed it was a curse. At the news, she covered her mouth with her other hand and closed her eyes tightly, leaning heavily against her husband. _He can’t be gone_ …it was far too soon for them to be broken apart again. They had only just _got him back_. It wasn’t _fair!_ With him gone, it felt like a piece of her was missing. She didn’t feel whole, and she had an impression that Manolo was feeling the same way. María was hoping she would never feel this way again, because she _had_. She’d felt the same thing when Manolo had died. She silently prayed for this to be a horrible nightmare and that she would wake up from it any second now.

But it was not to be. Their attention was broken away with the sound of a blade sliding from its sheath. María’s eyes snapped open and she watched as K’tsal opened her hand and sliced her dagger over her palm. Thick red blood welled from the wound and she rose her hand above her head. The hairs at the back of María’s neck stood on end, as if there was far too much static electricity in the air. She realized too late that it wasn’t just static in the air, there was actual _electricity_. It was curling around K’tsal’s hand and arm, the purple glow starting to outshine the candles in the room. With a cry, the woman brought her hand down hard over the rough sphere.

For a moment, nothing happened. The only sound in the room was the crackling of electricity dancing around K’tsal’s hand and leaping into Joaquín’s skin. With a snarl, the curling lightning intensified, the light growing brighter and the energy in the room practically thrumming. “Come on!” The blood red gem, gave a weak pulse of light. Then another. Each pulse growing louder and shining brighter. The blood on Joaquín’s chest started to be pulled back into the cuts and punctures he had sustained, as if his body was retracting the substance. The stone grew brighter still, the pulse starting to send shock waves throughout the room.

María and Manolo watched in rooted terror as K’tsal’s face started to contort into a feral snarl, almost as if she was turning into a beast. The hand clutching the stone seemed to distort, her nails becoming claws and scales starting to poke out of her skin as the bolts of lightning curled up her arm in wild patterns.

The couple nearly jumped when Joaquín’s eye flew open, and his body bowed off the bed. His muscles all tensed at once, and he opened his mouth in an unholy scream that filled the room and bounced off the walls. If it hadn’t been for Joaquín being dead just a few minuets ago, they would have thought he was dying a terrible death. The soldier continued to scream, his body convulsing from the process of coming back to life and the electricity running through his body.

María had to bury her head in Manolo’s shoulder so she didn’t have to look at the terrible sight. She was gripping Manolo’s hand so hard she feared that she might break his fingers, yet she couldn’t bring herself to loosen her grip.

Manolo watched as K’tsal finally reached over and placed a hand against Joaquín’s forehead, and a second later, the soldier went limp and his tortured screams were cut off. He was about to panic, when his friend’s eye rolled back into his head, and his breathing looked like it nearly stopped, “ _What did you do to him?_ ”

She ignored him, managing to dislodge her hand from the stone still sitting on Joaquín’s chest, clutching it to her chest and watching the soldier with wide eyes. The guitarist was about to shout at her, and demand answers, but she held up a hand to stop him, her focus on Joaquín. Manolo could read the tenseness in her shoulders for several seconds, before she relaxed with a sigh.

María still had her head in her husband’s shoulder, turning her head just enough to be heard. “Is…is he?”

K’tsal rubbed at her hand, the strange claws and scales disappearing back into her skin. “He is alive, at least.”

Manolo gave her hand a squeeze, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of his friend’s chest, the stone still glowing and pulsing faintly. Some of the smaller cuts and punctures had already started to heal…no wonder Joaquín was screaming like his wounds were opening back up. He gave María a gentle tug and he led the both of them closer to the bed. His friend’s face was tense, and there was a fine sheen of sweat coating his brow, but he was _alive_. When María finally looked, she nearly cried out in relief, seeing that the color was returning to Joaquín’s face.

The warrior woman knitted her brows, and reached a hand back out to touch the soldier, but Manolo grabbed her wrist just as she was about to touch Joaquín’s forehead again. “What are you doing?” He asked, his voice slightly strained. He hadn’t missed what happened to her other hand, and how she knocked Joaquín out with only a touch. Manolo wanted to make sure she wasn’t going to do any harm. _Why would she harm him if she just brought him back?_ his mind reasoned.

She was quiet a moment, the ear closest to Joaquín giving a small twitch. “It’s just to help him sleep…he will heal faster if his mind is not in torment.”

He looked to María, who gave a nod, and he released the woman’s wrist.

With a sigh, she rested her hand against Joaquín’s forehead and she closed her eyes. A minute or two passed and the woman’s brows knit, almost as if in confusion. She opened her eyes, studying the soldier. With a sigh, the perplexed look fell from her features, leaving _something_ in it’s wake. She ran her fingers through his hair, and Joaquín seemed to relax further.

“What’s the matter?” María asked, catching every subtle cue that K’tsal had just given away. She had seen that look before, as well as that gesture…it was sign of endearment, like one a mother gave a child. “There’s something wrong, isn’t there…”

K’tsal opened her mouth, but then closed it again. She tried again after a beat, “I…I was looking for happy memories…memories have feelings attached to them you know, and…the kind of feelings associated with pleasant and happy thoughts…was severely lacking in him…” The woman brushed her hand through Joaquín’s hair again, rubbing her thumb over his creased brow as if to smooth it out. “When I planted a seed of nightmares, the pool was considerably vast, but when looking for the opposite…” Her own brows furrowed as if thinking something over, “Well, it was less so.”

“Wait, you gave him nightmares?” Manolo said, a dangerous edge to his voice.

She sighed, giving him an apologetic look. “Aye…though had I known what was happening to him, I would never have agreed to it. I am sorry for that.” Her eyes returned to Joaquín, her gaze sad. “Though I don’t understand…the seed was only supposed to last for a week or so…”

“Who asked you to do this?” Manolo hissed, and María had to clasp his hand tighter to try and prevent him from doing something stupid.

K’tsal cocked her head to the side, “I doubt he’d want me to tell you, but if you must know…he is a lesser god of darkness. I’m sure you can figure the rest out for yourself.” Pulling her hand away, she stepped back from the bed.

Manolo didn’t need to be told anymore to know who she was talking about. _Xibalba_.

Lorus took her place, lying down next to the bed and resting his head next to Joaquín’s hand, giving it a soft nudge with his beak and letting out a sad coo. K’tsal gave her bird a strange look. “There is another problem, however…”

María leaned against her husband in an effort to calm him down, “What is it?”

The woman sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know, but I found something while searching for memories. I will have to consult my mate, since I’m not an expert in dark magic.” She then made her way around the bed, heading for the door, but stopped short and gave the gryphon another strange look. After a moment, she called gently to him, “You know that’s not him, right?”

Lorus looked back at his owner, his eyes rolling towards K’tsal without moving his head. The gryphon huffed, and repositioned himself, nudging his beak under Joaquín’s hand. K’tsal shook her head, and started on her way again, muttering something under her breath.

She was halted when María called out to her. “What’s that?” She was still clutching onto Manolo, but pointed with her free hand to the woman’s pouch. The leather bag appeared to have light trying to come out of the flap holding it shut.

Looking down, a perplexed look crossed the woman’s features, her eyes narrowing and pupils going thin. “What…?” She opened up the flap and light ascended in a beam to the ceiling, lighting the room. K’tsal reached into the bag, her hand disappearing, and her confusion increased when she seemed to find something. She retracted her hand, pulling a sword out of the pouch. It glowed brightly, and the smooth metal of the blade glinted with energy.

It looked like something an ancient knight would own.

The glow seemed to dim and eventually faded. If the situation weren’t so serious, Manolo might have laughed at the face the warrior woman now sported. Her eyes were comically wide, and her face had completely gone slack, her lower lip hanging loose enough to expose her lower teeth. The hand clasping the sword was tense, the knuckles white in their grip. K’tsal turned wide eyes onto Joaquín’s sleeping form, looking at him as if she’d never seen him before…almost like he was a ghost. “His name… _what is the name of his bloodline?_ ”

María and Manolo shared a glance, confused at the urgency in the woman’s voice. María was the one who answered. “Mondragón…what does that have to do with a sword?”

“ _Mondragón._ ” K’tsal echoed, her voice a low rumble. If it was possible, her eyes widened even more, her pupils shifting back and forth as if running rapidly through thoughts. “ _Kusz._ ” She looked around the room, finding a spare blanket laying over one of the sitting chairs near the fireplace. Grabbing it, she wrapped the sword in the cloth, dimming whatever glow was left. When she was done, she propped the swathed item against the bedside table, turned on her heel and practically stormed towards the door.

“Wait, where are you going?” Manolo asked, stepping away from María and turning towards the woman. “You’re leaving? What just happened?”

K’tsal’s face hardened, she straightened and looked down at Manolo. “I’m going to take care of the one who did this.” She waved a hand at Joaquín, “And I mean this in the least offense possible, but you don’t have killer in you…neither of you do.”

“Is that what you’ll do?” María asked, crossing her arms and looking down at Joaquín.

“Unless you wish me to do something else…” At their curious look, she continued. “According to my laws, when someone is wronged, the judgment falls on the family of the victim. Since I see no family of his here, that decision falls on the two of you.”

Manolo looked back at María, who shrugged. She didn’t appear to have an issue with it, and neither did he, but he wanted to know what was in store for Elísa. “What did you have in mind?”

K’tsal smiled, but there was only malice and hatred in it, showing off sharpened teeth. “I was going to give her a fate worse than death.” The static returned to the air, prickling at their skin.

María thought a moment, tilting her head to the side. “I don’t have a problem with that. Do you, Manolo?”

“Not even remotely, _mi amor_.”

She looked back at the warrior woman, “Just rough her up a bit for me before you do…whatever it is that you’re planning.” María sighed softly, coming to stand next to her husband. “I just wish I could be there to see it.”

K’tsal smiled at the two, but it was lacking in cheer. “Youngling, if you haven’t guessed my profession yet, then you should know that I used to be an assassin…I specialized in torture. You would not wish to see what I have planned for her in your _nightmares._ ” She looked over their shoulders at the sleeping soldier behind them. “Send her as much of your hatred that you wish, but do not stain your hands over her, allow me to do it for you…mine are already beyond redemption.” She turned to leave, stopping only briefly in the door. “Lorus will protect him, and you…” K’tsal cocked her head to the side, thinking of something. “Do…do you wish to return to your home and change before I leave?”

The couple shared a glace, before looking down at themselves. It only now registered that they were nearly covered in their friend’s blood, and the sight made Manolo nauseous. The color drained from his face, and the exhaustion in his limbs seemed to come back with a vengeance. María could read her husband well, and without him saying anything she nodded to K’tsal. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” She was thinking of a plan, after all. She knew K’tsal was trying to be helpful, but María would rather they be there to watch over him.

With one last glace behind them, the woman gave a short nod and left, closing the door behind her. Only a handful of seconds later, a strong, forceful wind rattled the shudders, and they heard a distant sound that might have been a roar.

Manolo turned around, hearing his wife take in a shuddering breath, to see her standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at their friend. She had reached out to touch him, but had stopped short, her hand still covered in drying blood. Her other hand shot up to cover her mouth, fresh tears making their way down her already stained cheeks. Her shoulders were shaking in her silent sobbing, and she tightly shut her eyes, almost as if to stop anymore tears from falling.

He rushed over to her, pulling her into his arms, and she slumped against him. He could feel his own tears stinging at his eyes, threatening to return, but he managed to hold it together. “What’s wrong?” She shouldn’t be crying anymore, it sounded like everything was going to be ok.

María leaned her head against his chest, clinging to his shirt for support. After another shuddering breath, she finally managed to get her voice working. “We almost lost him…we _did_ lose him.” Her shaking seemed to calm down as Manolo rubbed her back in comforting circles. María took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and she calmed down even more. “But he’s _alive_. We got him _back_.”

_They did_. Manolo looked over María’s head, watching Joaquín’s chest rise and fall. He never thought it would be such a comfort to see his friend _breathing_. While Joaquín was alive, he also knew that they weren’t out of the woods yet. It was very clear that Joaquín had suffered a great deal, and that his injuries were extensive. K’tsal might have brought him back, but his friend still needed to heal. And from what he could see, it wasn’t going to be a fast or easy process.

Still, Manolo wasn’t planning on having the soldier leave his sight.

María sighed, stepping back and wiping her tears away. She gave her husband a watery smile, “Alright. I’m going to go back home and grab a change of clothes for us. I won’t be long.” She headed towards the door, but stopped right before she was about to go through. María looked over her shoulder, her eyes locked on the sleeping soldier. “I don’t think he’ll wake up while I’m gone…but if he does, keep him where he is.” And then she was gone.

Manolo nodded, walking over to one of the sitting chairs and pulling it next to the bed. He sat down with a sigh, feeling all of his energy finally draining from him. Across the bed from him, Lorus gave a puff and closed his eyes. He didn’t know why, but he felt a little better with the gryphon there with him. Turning his attention back to Joaquín, he watched the man sleep. He appeared to be sleeping better, but there was still a crease in his brow that worried Manolo. He was also bothered by what the warrior woman had said, how the amount of dark and horrific memories dwarfed the happy ones.

He wanted to reach out and take his friend’s hand, but he didn’t want to get any blood on the soldier…plus he wasn’t sure if the stone would absorb the blood on his skin like it had on Joaquín. Maybe once all of this had passed, they could get him to open up about his travels. Not just the amusing stories he’d told them, or some of his more daring and impressive heroics…but the dirty and unpleasant stories as well. It might help with whatever nightmares he’s been having for who knows how long.

Manolo sighed, running a hand through his hair, but stopped midway through to realize that his hand was still covered in blood. Making a face and groaning, and figuring there wasn’t much point in trying to fix it now, he ran his hand all the way through and dropped it into his lap. He could feel the stickiness of the substance that had soaked through the front of his shirt and seeped into the front of his pants where the soldier had been pressed against him. Manolo’s skin was beginning to crawl at the sensation, and he tried not to fidget.

He hoped that María wasn’t gone for too long.

* * *

When she had come back with a fresh set of clothes for each of them, Manolo had practically bolted to the bathroom attached to Joaquín’s room. María merely shook her head at him, taking over his seat. She was thankful that it was late enough at night that there wasn’t anyone around to see her walking around the town with blood all over her. She had needed to wash her hands out of necessity in order to not get blood all over the fresh clothing she had gone home for. While she had planned on letting Manolo bathe first, since he stayed with Joaquín while she was gone, she couldn’t help but take a little pity on him. For a man who was raised as a bullfighter, he certainly had a very low tolerance for blood.

She scooted the chair a little closer to the bed, and took in Joaquín’s appearance. She was happy to see that he had completely regained the color in his face, and the soft sound of his breaths a comfort. The wounds on his chest and arms had continued to heal, but they still weren’t nearly done. María assumed that the magic worked on the worst injuries first in order to stabilize the wounded. The stone was still lit and pulsing with magic, the sound not unlike a heartbeat. She briefly wondered if it was keeping his heart beating until he was better healed.

María’s attention was drawn to the soldier’s face when he made a soft sound, not quite a whimper, but close. Joaquín’s brows had knit in his sleep, his eyes rapidly moving beneath his lids. The muscles in his jaw twitched and it occurred to her that he might have been having a nightmare. Without thinking, she reached a hand out and smoothed her knuckles from his temple down his face, and she was surprised at the relief she felt at his warmth. Her heart gave a little clench when he leaned ever so slightly into her touch and let out a soft sigh.

_Could he tell she was here?_ _That it was_ her _touch?_ She ran her knuckles in the same way one more time, being careful to avoid the cuts on his cheek and jaw. Then tentatively, she brushed her fingers through his hair. The soldier breathed out another soft sigh, and his features smoothed out some. She cocked her head to the side, studying his face as she continued to gently run her hand through his hair and over his head. His hair was soft, not as soft as Manolo’s but still pleasant to the touch, and she wasn’t sure why that surprised her so much.

She was pleased when his brow completely smoothed out, and she finally pulled her hand back after running it through his hair a few more times. As she looked him over again, noticing every cut, scrape, puncture, and bruise, her throat closed up and she could feel the familiar burning behind her eyes. She tried to remind herself that he was here, in front of her and breathing, _alive_. The dark circles under his eyes were bothersome, but María was hoping he’d be able to catch up on sleep while he healed. And if that meant that they would have to keep an eye on him and make sure that he rested soundly, then so be it.

Her thoughts were pulled away when the door to the bathroom finally opened, Manolo entering the bedroom with a towel still draped over his head. Her husband was furiously rubbing the towel over his hair, and in his distraction tripped over the rug in the middle of the room. She heard him grumble under her breath, and he looked up, making sure he could see where he was going.

When he was right next to her, she stood and called his attention. “Keep an eye on him?” She nearly snorted at the sight of her husband.

His head was bowed, the towel flopped over most of his face, only one of his eyes was showing. Manolo had momentarily stopped running the towel over his hair, though she knew that it would still need to air dry being so thick, and was looking at her from under dark, water logged eyelashes. A moment passed and a smile peeked out from under the towel, “Of course.”

María grinned back, reaching up and lifting the towel so she could see her husband’s face. He looked better, but his features were still drawn, and almost tired looking. She ran her knuckles over his cheek, not unlike how she had with Joaquín, and watched as Manolo’s eyes fluttered closed. With a soft sigh, she turned and grabbed her own change of clothes, heading to the bathroom. She stopped at the doorway briefly, looking over her shoulder. She could see Manolo flop into the chair, the towel still draped over his head. He reached a hand out but stopped, almost thinking better of it, and instead let it fall into his lap. She hummed to herself as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

She had much to mull over while she cleaned herself up.

* * *

He felt better, now that he was clean of blood. The few cuts he had managed to incur had been cleaned, and only stung lightly against his skin. Manolo grumbled, once again reaching up and vigorously rubbing the towel over his wet hair. The more water he could get rid of now, the better…unfortunately for him, his hair loved to cling to whatever water got into it, so it would still take forever to dry properly. Scrubbing the towel around his head one last time, he stood from the chair he was sitting in and hung the towel up on a nearby hanger to dry. He’d hang it up properly once María was out of the bathroom. Manolo still felt a little bad for using Joaquín’s bathroom, even at María’s insistence that he wouldn’t care. They were his friends after all, and the soldier had said more than once in the past that his home was their home too.

On his way back to his chair, he stopped and once again took in his friend’s appearance. He looked better than before, but he was still in bad shape. It was then that he noticed that Joaquín’s boots were still on. Thinking that Joaquín probably didn’t want his bed dirtied, discounting what blood might have gotten on it, Manolo decided to take his boots off. Why they didn’t think about that before was beyond him. _Oh, that’s right, because he was dead_. Shaking his head, he rid himself of the thought. _Don’t think about it, he’s alive and that’s what’s important_. He leaned over Joaquín’s legs, doing his best to be gentle in taking off the soldier’s boots. Manolo managed to get the first boot off without any problems, setting it aside next to the bed.

As he reached for the other one, he realized he was being stared at. Across from him, the gryphon had lazily opened an eye and was watching him. The bird let out a sigh that sounded more like a huff and closed his eye again, repositioning his head closer to Joaquín.

Manolo couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. “You take your job seriously, don’t you?” He got the second boot off with just as much ease at the first, and set it next to its twin. The only reply he got from the gryphon was a grunted coo, and this time the bird didn’t even bother to open his eye.

Then something else caught his eye; Joaquín’s pants. Manolo looked over the material and frowned. They were virtually spotless, lacking any blood on them. There wasn’t even an _impression_ of a stain. That wasn’t right, though…he had seen for himself that there was a large stain of blood on his thigh where he had been injured. His sight was drawn to the stone sitting on his friend’s chest, the object pulsing very much like a beating heart. It must have been the same magic in the object that had brought Joaquín back from the dead. It was the only explanation he could come up with.

Gods, Joaquín had come _back from the dead_. Manolo slumped back in to the chair, watching his friend closely to make sure he was still breathing. Sure enough, Joaquín continued to breathe normally…but Manolo still worried. There was a slight rasping sound when his friend took a breath, and the large blotchy bruise that had formed since his…resurrection covered nearly the man’s entire side. It was mottled, but for the most part it was still a dark purple. He turned his attention away from the dark mark, instead looking at his friend’s face. It looked like he was sleeping peacefully now, and it put Manolo a little more at ease.

He leaned over his lap, letting his elbows rest on his knees, and he tried to keep his fingers from twitching. They itched to do something, but he wasn’t entirely sure what. Manolo had started to reach out earlier, but then his brain had kicked in and he had no clue as to what he was about to do. And once again, he felt like he should be doing _something_ , but he didn’t know _what_. 

His attention was drawn down, seeing the soldier’s hand twitch. Seemed he wasn’t the only one with fidgeting hands. But the man’s hand jumped again and he made a soft noise, his brow once again starting to crease. Manolo sighed, and without thinking, reached out and placed his hand over Joaquín’s. He waited for the next twitch from the soldier, but it never came. Instead, his friend appeared to relax, the furrow in the man’s brow smoothing itself out.

_Odd_ , Manolo thought to himself. He hadn’t expected a simple touch to receive such a calming reaction…both for himself and Joaquín. It surprised him, how natural it felt, not even a hint of awkwardness. It probably had something to do with his returning memories. The more of them returned…the more questions he had, even though he was starting to suspect what they meant. He knew it had something to do with his friend, as well as pleasant memories…and after what they had been told about Joaquín’s memories, maybe he was being affected by the same thing.

He tried not to think about it as he curled his fingers around Joaquín’s hand, picking it up and studying the appendage. It was a strong hand, definitely one that had worked hard in its life. It was slightly bigger than the guitarist’s hand, but something about them seemed to fit. Manolo couldn’t help himself and ran his fingertips over his friends, noting that they were even rougher and calloused than his own. He was a solider, after all, and he only ever used swords; it made sense. He smiled to himself, finally curling his fingers around Joaquín’s hand. Manolo remembered one of his visions, the one where he and Joaquín were sparring with swords…his hands had been rough even then.

Manolo felt a quick, gentle pressure to his hand, and his eyes snapped to Joaqín’s face, thinking that he might have been waking up. But when he looked at the soldier, he was still sleeping soundly. He knitted his brows, watching Joaquín’s face carefully. _Surely the man couldn’t have known_ …

He was startled when there was loud, heavy, crashing sound above him – like something had hit the roof with force – and he jumped in his seat, dropping Joaquín’s hand in the process. The man before him let out a small noise, almost as in protest, and without thinking he spoke. “ _Lo siento, hermano_.” Above him, there was a scratching noise…something was sliding off the roof.

The bathroom door slammed open, María looking a little panicked. “What was that?” Her hair was hanging around her face in wet curls, a towel still clutched in her hand like she had been trying to dry it off when the sound occurred.

Lorus lifted his head briefly, his ears pivoting on is head, and cocking his head to the side several times. He clucked softly in his throat and cooed in a way that said he was clearly not bothered by the sounds. The gryphon just rested his head back on the bed close to Joaquín.

Whatever was sliding off the roof, lost the fight to stay up there, and fell passed the window, landing on the ground with a heavy _thud_. They heard a low and guttural sound, almost like a curse, followed by low rumbling.

Manolo and María shared a glance before they were both bolting for the door, grabbing a weapon each and practically running down the stairs towards the front door. Their footfalls echoed throughout the large estate, making the already large mansion seem bigger and emptier. As the two reached the door, María was the one who opened it, but stopped when a strong gust of wind stopped them from exiting the building.

“ _Tal nae_ , I _implore_ you…close the door, and go back to your friend.”

They froze at the sound. It was K’tsal, but there was something very wrong with her voice. It was deeper than normal, and had a rumble to it…in fact it almost sounded like she was speaking in a growl.

“Why?” María called, trying to step out of the door, but once again being pushed back by a gust of wind. She bumped into Manolo this time, and he helped steady her.

“Because you do not wish to see me as I am.” Was the rumbling reply.

María let out a huff, stomping towards the door again, “What’s _that_ supposed to mean? It’s not like we don’t know what you’re supposed to look like, and we just saw Joaquín covered in blood, looking almost like a monster, and then _die_.” She got to the threshold, and there was another gust of wind, but less powerful this time.

“ _Youngling_.” This time it sounded more like a warning.

“Don’t you _youngling_ me! I’m telling you, it’s not going to bother us. We’ve seen _plenty_.” María stepped outside, and disappeared down the street.

Manolo took several long strides to catch up to her, but as soon as he rounded the corner, nearly ran into the back of her. She was standing very still, her eyes wide and looking at something down a little ways. When he himself followed her gaze, he sucked in a breath. And he didn’t think he could be any more surprised at the warrior woman. He had been so wrong. “ _Dios míos_ …”

Not too far from them was a large form, mostly obscured in shadow, but there was enough light to see what K’tsal had been speaking of. While the shape was large, it was also hunched over and crouching. One large clawed hand was on the ground as support, the other was held up in front of the creature’s face, as if to hide itself. From what Manolo could see, the creature was covered in scales, it’s feet were also large and taloned. Two, large leather and feathered wings sprouted from the creature’s back, one folded normally, the other hanging limply on the ground behind it. He could also see a long tail curling around the creature’s side, the end flipping in anxiety.

María was the first of them to move, practically jogging over to the creature, Manolo not far behind her. When they got closer, he could see more detail. His wife, being as bold as she was, moved the creatures upheld hand to the side, revealing it’s face. Manolo had to keep himself from gasping again, trying to understand what he could possibly be seeing, other than what he was seeing.

Looking away from both of them was the head of a dragon, it’s eyes tightly closed. It was clear that it didn’t want to see what they thought of it. _Her_ , he reminded himself, this must be K’tsal, even though there was no resemblance to the warrior woman that he could see. Her beak was mostly boney, covered in small, very fine scales that got larger as they moved towards the back of her head. She didn’t really have horns, but there were larger pointed outcroppings over her eyes and around the back of her jaw. Her hair, if one could call it that, looked almost like long ropes of scales, braided together like her normal hairstyle. If Manolo had to compare it to something, the scale patterns and larger boney ones resembled that of a desert lizard…the scale patterns similar to the desert reptiles he had come across.

K’tsal slowly, cautiously, opened one of her eyes, the ruby orb seeming to glow in the moonlight. Her slitted pupil, wider and more rounded in the dark, glanced at both of them as if unsure. She eventually turned her head, and looked at both of them, almost in surprise. Well, as much surprise as her dragon features allowed. “You…are not running away…or screaming.” The dragon woman blinked a few times at the couple, the arm that had been held up as a partial shield going to wrap around her middle. With a grunted growl, she started to stand up. Her hand that had been on the ground shot out against the building, helping to stabilize her as she stood.

“Like I said before, we’re kind of used to strange things happening around here.” María said simply. She darted forward when she saw that K’tsal was having a little trouble. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” K’tsal answered, her voice low and rumbling. It took several moments, but the dragon woman seemed to balance herself, her clawed feet shuffling to displace her weight properly. One massive wing was folded nicely against her back, the top curve peeking over her shoulder, the other one…still hung limply on the ground, and trailed behind her when she took a step.

Manolo watched as María instantly went to K’tsal’s side, if only to steady her. When she stood, she easily dwarfed María, and towered over him. He could see when María touched the dragon’s arm, K’tsal jumped a little, as if not expecting to be touched. He looked from the drooping wing to K’tsal’s face, seeing the slight discomfort there. Without much thought, he started forward, but once he was close to her, and realized how much larger she was than him he faltered, unsure of what to do. “Is…is it broken?”

K’tsal rolled here eyes in the direction of her wing, “No, just dislocated.”

María stepped back a little, eyeing the dragon with an almost scolding look. “You flew all the way back here with a _dislocated wing?_ ” Her mouth was almost hanging open now.

Well, that would explain why her landing was so rough and why she managed to slide off the roof.

She merely rumbled, “I’ve had worse.” K’tsal turned her head and looked at Manolo. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as if studying him. After a moment or two, she sighed, her beak pulling into something akin to a grin. Well, he hoped it was a grin. “Here, I can see you hesitating…” She stooped a little lower, trying to make herself look less intimidating. She offered him her arm, looking for a little bit of support.

Manolo instantly knew what she was doing, and without thinking, went to her side. He stood next to her, her offered arm draped over his shoulders. It was obvious that she didn’t really need his help, but understood that he wanted to help anyway. Without much thought, he grabbed hold of the clawed hand that hung down. He only realized after his mistake what he had done. He shouldn’t have been surprised at how her clawed hand dwarfed his own, but he was. Her hand was covered in scale rather than skin, and he expected it to be cool to the touch, much like a reptile, but he found that K’tsal’s scale covered hand was warm. The scales on her hand weren’t smooth either, they had a slightly roughened texture to them. It was strange, but it wasn’t as unnerving as he thought it might be.

On the other side of K’tsal, María was trying her best to not fall behind. “So…you’re back now. Does that mean…?”

Manolo was a little worried that the dragon would feel offended by that being the second thing asked.

K’tsal didn’t seem to mind, and the three of them walked forward, trying to get into the mansion as fast as possible. The two had to walk quickly in order to keep up with the dragon’s long strides. “Aye, I handed her off to someone who will handle the rest.” A toothy grin pulled at her beak, “And I made sure to… _rough her up_ before doing so.”

With the way that K’tsal’s eyes flashed and the dangerous glint of her pointed teeth, Manolo was suddenly glad that they were left behind. He was confident now that he didn’t want to know anything about what happened to Elísa.

As soon as they managed to get K’tsal through the doorway of the mansion, a gust of wind passed by them and closed the large double doors. In the light of the mansion, Manolo and María could now clearly see the patterning and coloration of the dragon’s scales. They were muted colors, looking very much like the patterns one would see on a poisonous desert snake. The feathers on her wings looked like they were normally a dark brown, with flecks of black, white and red in them, but they also had an iridescent sheen to them when the light caught them just right.

The dragon dislodged herself from the two, and Manolo and María hung back as she continued to take a few more steps forward. She headed towards one of the decorative pillars in the room under the balcony. “I…require your help.” K’tsal crouched down, getting as low as she could and reached out and placed her left hand against the pillar.

“What is it?” María asked, jogging after the dragon and coming to stand at her side. Manolo was quick to join her.

K’tsal looked over her left shoulder at them, her eye darting down at her dislocated wing. “It needs to be reset before I shift back…if it doesn’t, it’ll cause more problems than I wish to deal with.”

“What do we have to do?” María asked, a look of determination crossing her face. She always was one for action.

“It will take both of you, and it must be quick…” K’tsal growled lowly, her injured wing twitching in discomfort. “Grab it at the base, and in one motion push in and up. That should do the trick.”

Manolo and María shared a look before placing both their hands on the dragon’s wing. Right before they were going to reset the wing, he thought of something. “You…you’re not going to burn us or anything, will you?”

Her brow ridges curled down in confusion. “Burn you? Why in Goddess’s name would I _burn_ you?”

“Uhm…” He started, but now he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue with the look he was receiving from K’tsal. “Don’t dragons breathe fire?” Out of the corner of his eye, he could see María looking at him like he was babbling nonsense.

The dragon growled, the deep rumble vibrating through both their bodies. “Why does everyone in this world assume I breathe fire?” In emphasis, she huffed, a handful of sparks flying from her nose. “I may be an elemental, but I _do not_ control _fire_.” She turned her head back around and lowered it, preparing for her wing to be set. “However, I’ll try not to electrocute you.”

That wasn’t even remotely reassuring, and it had Manolo swallowing dryly. After sharing another glance with his wife, they agreed that they would both push on the count of three. Once counted down, they both pushed in and slightly upward with everything they had, resulting in a sickening _snap_ as the bone popped back into place.

K’tsal groaned in both pain and relief, stretching out her wing and testing to make sure it was properly in place. Completely stretched out, the wing was massive, and the feathers shined in the artificial light of the mansion. As K’tsal folded her wing against her back, she made sure to hit Manolo with it.

He made an indignant squawk, but it was a startled sound rather than a pained one.

She stood, and started away from the couple, heading towards the sitting area in the main entryway. They watched as her body started to jerk; her arms, back, and legs contorting and shifting in ways that shouldn’t be possible. They could hear the cracking of bones and tendons, and the way K’tsal’s body bended and twisted, made the two of them sick. Her dragon head shrunk and compressed into what she normally looked like, the wings and tail shrinking and absorbing into her body. Her hands and taloned feet returning to normal, and every scale that he been showing receded into her skin.

When she had returned to her normal state, she gave a full bodied shake, turning around and looking at them with concern. “Are you two alright?”

“I feel like we should be asking you that.” Manolo replied, swallowing dryly. He was hoping his churning stomach would settle down. And if he never had to hear those kinds of sounds again, it would be too soon. He could see out of the corner of his eye that María didn’t appear to be feeling well either. Well, at least he wasn’t alone in his suffering.

“It is never pleasant when you have to break your bones and tear muscles and tendons in order to shift…but I have become numb to it in my lifetime.” She hissed, looking down and pressing against her lower side, her fingers coming away shiny and wet. “ _Kusz_ …” With a growl, the woman reached up and pulled her shirt over her head, trying to look down at her wound. With the shirt off, the leather vest was exposed, and it was riddled with bullets.

They watched as she turned around as if looking for something. When she saw a large full length mirror, she started towards it. K’tsal extended her hand, and streaks of purple lighting shot forth, hitting the glass and dancing across the glass surface. The image in the mirror started to shift and distort, the reflection fading into a room that could have been in a castle.

“Wait, what are you doing?” María rushed, hurrying over to K’tsal. “Where are going?”

“I’ve been reminded why I don’t get involved in human affairs, and need to be healed…” She pressed a hand against the glass, and it seemed to distort under her touch. “I also need to talk to my mate regarding what I found with your friend’s memories.” Her hand pressed a little further and the mirror finally gave way, and her hand passed through the glass.

“What do you mean you don’t get involved with human affairs?” Manolo had made his way to the other side of the woman. He was concerned what was happening in his friend’s parlor, and wondered if the mirror was going to be damaged. _But it was magic_ , his brain so helpfully supplied. He’d seen stranger things than a portal in a mirror before.

K’tsal let out a heavy sigh, but stopped her progress through the mirror. “Well for one, I don’t like being shot at…human’s have now progressed far beyond what I was used to when it came to firearms.” She then looked up the stairs, her ears twitching as if trying to hear something. “Humans…are also easy to love…but easy to loose.”

Manolo could see an almost buried pain in the woman’s ruby eyes, and in that instant, he could also see how _tired_ they looked. It wasn’t like a physical tiredness; it was more related to age. He remembered seeing it with his great grandmother…and to a lesser extent, his father…but it was a familiar look. He wondered briefly how old she could have been…she didn’t look much older than them, but he knew that when it came to the supernatural, looks could be deceiving.

“I will return soon.” With one last look, K’tsal nodded to both of them, her attention being drawn away at the sound of a male voice. She turned away from him a moment before completely pressing through the mirror to the other side. As soon as she was across, the mirror rippled and then snapped back to normal, once again reflecting normally.

Manolo looked over at María, his wife taking on a pensive look while gazing into the mirror. After a few moments, he reached out to her, brushing her hand with his.

At the contact, she seemed to snap out of it, latching onto his hand. She sighed, lacing their fingers together and taking one step over to lean against him.

He instantly wrapped his other arm around her, pulling her tightly to him and placing a soft kiss on top of her still damp hair. Manolo heard her groan into his shoulder and he looked down. “What’s that for?”

She leaned more heavily into her husband, lazily wrapping an arm around his waist. “We still don’t have any answers…” She turned her head to the side, her ear resting flat against his chest.

“No, but we’ll be getting them soon.” He gently steered her towards and up the stairs. “We might not have answers right now, but at least we know that we won’t ever have to worry about… _her_ again.”

María moved around to his side in order to walk up the stairs side by side. A smirk parted her lips, but it was more a bearing of teeth. “That is true.”

The two of them reached the top of the stairs and rounded a corner, heading down the hallway where Joaquín rested. They could see the candlelight spilling out of the doorway into the hall as they approached the room. Looking in through the door, Joaquín was still unmoving, the stone on his chest beating away…Lorus looked as bored as ever.

They disengaged from each other as they made it passed the doorway, and María headed straight for the chair next to the bed. Manolo pulled over another chair and placed it next to María, and flopped himself down. He watched as María reached out and ran gentle fingers down the side of his friend’s face, and how the soldier seemed to move his head into the touch. As his wife ran her hand down the side of Joaquín’s face, and eventually through the man’s hair, Manolo subconsciously reached down and grabbed hold of Joaquín’s hand. It didn’t even cross his mind that this wasn’t a normal thing for them, because to him, all of this felt completely natural. And that was just fine for Manolo.

* * *

It was several hours later before anything changed. María and Manolo had been keeping a close eye on the soldier, but it seemed no amount of hair petting and hand holding could soothe the man’s fitful sleeping after a while. It was when Joaquín had started to fidget in his sleep that they received a sign that their supernatural friend had returned.

Lorus raised his head, his eyes glued to the doorway. His ears twitched and pivoted at sounds that the humans couldn’t hear. He made a soft chortling sound, the feathers in his ruff fluffing out, right before there was a knock on the door frame.

They turned to look at K’tsal, who had made a change of shirt while she had been gone. In place of the loose, battle torn shirt was a dark purple tunic, adorned with golden trim and designs. The tunic was just long enough to touch the top of her legs, and the arms were cropped at the shoulders. While María had already seen the many scars crisscrossing her arms and upper torso, Manolo had only gotten a quick glimpse earlier, and his face went slack with shock. The hand that she had cut specifically for the stone was bandaged up, but there was a stain where blood was still leaking. She walked into the room and around the other side of the bed next to the gryphon. “How is he?”

“He was doing alright up until about half an hour ago.” María said softly, running her hand down Joaquín’s face. “But he’s becoming more restless. I think he might be having nightmares.”

Manolo looked pointedly at K’tsal and she let out a heavy sigh.

“As I said before, that it not my doing…he was probably having them long before I showed up.” The woman reached forward, gently touching Joaquín’s forehead and closing her eyes. K’tsal hummed low in her throat, but it almost sounded like a growling purr. Joaquín relaxed a little, but his brow was still knit and his eye was still moving rapidly beneath the lid. “I’ve planted another seed…but it appears it’s doing much less good than it was before.”

“Did you find out what was wrong with him?” Manolo asked quietly, Joaquín’s hand still clasped in his own. He watched his friend’s features soften enough that the edge was taken off, but he didn’t like that Joaquín was still having trouble.

K’tsal sighed, taking her hand away from Joaquín’s brow. “Aye, I have.” She snapped her fingers and one of the last chairs by the fireplace materialized behind her and she sat down, watching the soldier closely. “Your friend has had his memories locked away. They are still there, but they have been…” She squinted her eyes and pursed her lips in thought. “…repressed. He does not have access to them yet.”

María perked up at that, “Yet?”

The dragon woman nodded. “They will return to him, in time. When he died, the spell upon his memories was loosened, and has started to unravel.” K’tsal’s attention was then drawn to the mark on Joaquín’s chest, just below the pulsing stone. Her eyebrows knit in thought, but she said nothing.

Manolo rolled that bit of information around in his head. “Is…is there a way to check if someone else was under the same spell?” He asked with slightly halting hesitation.

“Aye, now that I know what I’m looking for it shouldn’t be an issue.” She idly reached over and ran her fingers through the gryphon’s feathers, eliciting a soft purr from the beast.

He could feel María watching him closely, but decided to press on. “Would you mind checking me?” While Manolo still didn’t feel overly comfortable with the dragon woman poking around in his head, he knew that she could be trusted not to hurt him.

K’tsal watched him a moment, seeming to study his face. After a few passing moments, she nodded and stood, walking over to the other side of the bed – it was much too large to simply reach over to him. “Relax you mind, youngling…this will not hurt.” She then gently placed the tips of her fingers against his forehead.

Manolo closed his eyes. It was an odd sensation to say the least. He could feel a gentle prodding around the inside of his mind, almost like something was pulling lightly at his thoughts. The something shifted in his head, and he received a vivid flash of himself playing his guitar against the proposal tree, Joaquín lazily lying next to him against the trunk. Then the presence was gone and he opened his eyes, honey brown meeting ruby. They were looking at him thoughtfully.

“It appears that you have been affected by the same spell…” Her lips twitched into a small grin, “But something tells me you already had your suspicions.” Her eyes flicked briefly towards María before returning to Manolo’s. “Yours have unraveled much more than your friend’s…your memories will be coming back more quickly since they started.”

Next to them, Joaquín made a soft distressed sound, his brow creasing more.

Manolo watched as K’tsal’s pupils thinned, and her ears twitched with what he assumed was anxiety. She then turned her attention back on the other two humans. “May I try something?”

María and Manolo shared a look. “That depends on what it is.” María said slowly.

K’tsal made her way back around the bed and sat in the chair on the other side. She reached into her pouch, and pulled out a large rounded object.

“Wait, how…?” Manolo trailed off, once again having trouble processing what he had just seen.

The dragon woman sent him a wide grin, “Magic.” She settled the object in her lap, turning it around until it was in the right place. It was silver, the large dents and bumps in the metal gleaming in the light of the room. The flattened dome looked old, despite its shiny appearance.

María eyed the object, “What is it?”

K’tsal let out a heavy sigh, “It does not exist here in this world…but the human’s from my homeland called it a Singing Shield.” She ran her fingers over some of the bumps in the metal on the sides. “Legend says that after the first war ever fought, the Goddess cried over the fallen warriors, and her tears were absorbed into the metal of their shields. When struck, the sound could sooth even the most tormented of warrior spirits.” K’tsal shrugged, her eyes darting over to Joaquín’s troubled face.

Manolo furrowed his brows, looking at the piece of metal. “So then…it’s an instrument?” If it was indeed an instrument, then his interests had been piqued.

“It is. Truthfully, I’ve found any kind of music helps a wounded warrior.” K’tsal closed her eyes, and was quiet a moment, and then her fingers started to strike the bumps on the metal in a specific fashion. A tune started to emerge from the flicks of her fingers, the melody calm and quiet…it almost sounded sad. She continued on, her hands purposefully moving around the metal surface.

María and Manolo were captivated by the enchanting sound of the object, and not long after the music had been playing, Joaquín’s features smoothed out and he appeared to be sleeping peacefully again. Manolo had to admit that the sound of the Singing Shield was relaxing, and he hadn’t realized how tense he had become over the course of the day. The sound of music made his fingers twitch to play his guitar, but it had been left in lieu of the events from earlier. Perhaps if there was time later he could run home and grab it…if music helped Joaquín sleep peacefully, then he was going to play for him.

The night stretched on, eventually the first rays of morning started to filter in through the windows. There was little chatter amongst the three, which was fine by all of them. K’tsal had urged them to go home and sleep, but they had refused. They were going to stay for as long as it took for Joaquín to wake up. As the hours started to stretch on, the exhaustion was starting to set into the couple. The rarely left Joaquín’s side, and when they did, it was never for very long.

* * *

K’tsal had merely sighed and grumbled at their antics, but she never again mentioned they leave. Instead, she took it upon herself to make sure they were fed and got at least some sleep. The warrior woman never once pressed them for their intentions; she simply slipped into the role of guardian like it was second nature. She even volunteered to retrieve Manolo’s guitar, after seeing how antsy the man had been after she had stopped playing her own instrument. The only one who never moved was Lorus; apparently the gryphon had taken a special liking to the soldier, and refused to budge.

In the moments of silence, or when Manolo was lightly strumming his guitar, María chanced to ask a few questions of K’tsal. Some she answered, others she didn’t. The most pressing one of all was why she was helping them, even though the woman responded with the same thing María had been told before: that Joaquín reminded her of someone she once knew. She had tried asking from another angle, strategically questioning K’tsal about the sword, but the woman didn’t elaborate. Only implied that she would receive an answer in time.

Eventually, the wounds on Joaquín’s skin started to heal nearly another day later, and it was then that K’tsal removed the stone. She had given the soldier one last look over, and put the glowing gem away, as well as taking the sword with her. She had informed them that he would be able to heal on his own, and that he was well on his way to recovery. He might even wake up in another half a day or so, but he would be weak. Joaquín would still need time to recover properly. And when he was fully recovered, to summon her…apparently there was a test that needed to be performed regarding the sword.

Which brought them to now. It had been three and a half days since they had rescued Joaquín, and he was still sound asleep. After the first time music being played helped the man sleep, Manolo was almost constantly plucking at his strings. Since then, it didn’t appear that Joaquín had had one nightmare. That was something they were both grateful for.

As the hours ticked by, María had taken over watching Joaquín while Manolo dozed next to her. Her husband had given up against the pull of sleep and had practically been out as soon as he had leaned over onto the bed. His head was pillowed on his folded arms, and she didn’t miss how he was still touching Joaquín’s hand with one of his own. She filed that little piece of information away for later. María looked over Joaquín’s form again. His arms and chest were now littered with shiny new scars, some of the smaller ones already starting to fade, looking more like older scars than ones that had just been inflicted. She secretly hoped that they would still be visible once the magic wore off.

A twitch of his face drew her attention. His breathing was starting to become deeper, and his brows drew together. A moment later, his face screwed into a vision of pain, and he let out a groan of discomfort. His arm twitched, like he wanted to movie it, but he eventually stopped trying, another discontented noise leaving him. He breathed in sharply, and let it out slowly with a hiss, his eyelid squeezing tighter before opening slowly. Joaquín immediately closed it, grunting at the dim light of the room.

María held her breath as she watched her friend starting to come around. Her hands were in her lap, and she clasped them together tightly, not sure of what to do with them.

His eye opened and managed to stay that way this time. It rolled around, taking in the surroundings before it landed on María. The gaze was surprised for a moment, but then softened, sleep still clinging to him. A crooked smile crept across his face, and his eye became half lidded. “What, no good morning kiss?”

The crack of her hand meeting his still healing chest was enough to startle her husband awake, Joaquín yelping at the sharp pain in caused.

Joaquín was blinking at her owlishly, his eye large and rounded, a flicker of fear dancing there. His mouth opened and closed a few times, and he struggled to get his elbows under him so he could partially prop himself up. “Wha-?”

María could feel the angry tears prickling at her vision, and she was shaking with emotion. She didn’t know when she had stood up, and she was now staring down at the startled soldier. She had to swallow, not trusting her voice. “What were you thinking!?” She practically shouted, her hands balled into fists at her side, “You went and got yourself killed!” The severity of her words hit her after they had left her mouth, and she was overcome with a heavy wave of realization. María rolled her eyes to the ceiling, before closing them altogether, sinking back into her chair and covering her mouth with a hand. “You got yourself killed…”

Joaquín watched her for several moments, his eye still comically wide, but it eventually looked away, his guilt showing through in his expression. His eye also took on a glassy sheen, before turning his attention back to his friends. “María, Manolo, I…” but he trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for what to say.

Next to her, Manolo was also visibly shaken, watching his friend with wide and nearly disbelieving eyes. He took in a shaking breath as if steeling himself, and then reached out to lay his hand over Joaquín’s. His throat bobbed as he swallowed thickly, “We…we lost you there for a little while, _hermano_.”

Joaquín didn’t pull his hand away, but his eye snapped away from Manolo’s face to his hand. His hand twitched a little under the contact. “I…I know.” He slipped his hand out from under Manolo’s only to place it on top, giving it a gentle squeeze. Joaquín continued to look down at their joined hands, “And I’m…I’m sorry for worrying you, and all the trouble I’ve caused.” Then much quieter, “I don’t deserve friends like you.”

María sniffed, the anger draining from her, leaving a choked half laugh. The tears she had been trying to hold back rolled down her face, and she hastily wiped some of them away. She reached out and placed her hand on Joaquín’s arm, not far from where he was covering her husband’s hand. “Joaquín, you are an idiot.” She sniffled, giving his arm a squeeze, “ _Gods above_ , you are such an idiot.” _But she loved him anyway_. “If you think we’re going _anywhere_ after what just happened, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Manolo chuckled, but it sounded watery. “She’s right; you can’t get rid of us.” Manolo took his free hand and placed it over top of María’s. He was comforted by the warmth radiating off both Joaquín and María. His expression became thoughtful, and he unconsciously brushed Joaquín’s thumb with his own. “No matter how hard you try.” A small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

Joaquín blinked, before settling his head back against the pillows. His eye still seemed overly shiny, and his jaw was tight, as if trying to get himself under control. After a moment he laughed softly, the sound much too light for the situation. “If I promise not to die again any time soon, will you let me off the hook?”

“Not a chance.” María said with absolutely seriousness.

“Damn.” Joaquín grumbled, but it had a playful tone to it. “And here I thought coming back from the dead would get me some sympathy points.”

María’s face fell at the comment, and Manolo barely suppressed a strangled sound in his throat.

At his friend’s obvious discomfort, his face dropped as well. “Aw, c’mon guys…I was just joking…”

Manolo was the first one to speak, “We know, it’s just…” He made another soft, but pained noise, “Joaquín, you were _dead_ …and we didn’t think you were coming back.” He took in a slow and careful breath, before letting it out just as slowly. “But you’re here with us now, and that’s all that matters.”

Joaquín looked at both his friends, making sure that they knew he was being serious. “Hey, you should know me better than that by now…” He cracked a smile, and he received two small ones in return. “Not even death can stop me from getting back to you.”

* * *

If anyone is interested, K'tsal is playing a hang drum. [Hear it here!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GsaTuyjS1Ic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last full chapter everyone! The only thing left is the epilogue. Thank you so much for reading.


	8. Into the Arena

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap guys! I think this is the first time in...years that I've finished a story. I'm very excited to be sharing this with everyone, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thank you so much for sticking with me for this!

K’tsal hadn’t been exaggerating when she said that Joaquín would be weak after he woke up. The man had fallen nearly half a dozen times the first day he was awake, which led to María and Manolo never leaving him alone. He had tried to wave it off as a joke, but eventually had stopped trying when neither of them were laughing with him. He insisted that they didn’t need to be there with him, and he would be fine on his own for a few hours, but was not to be trusted.

It was the first time they had left him alone to cook him a warm meal, coming back to him sprawled out on the floor that they decided he couldn’t be trusted. Joaquín had even tried using the excuse that they were married and didn’t need to be wasting their time on him. ‘ _I’m sure you have more important things to do than babysit me, guys_ ’. They didn’t hear a word of it and insisted that it was no trouble. For a few days he had behaved himself.

Then they made the mistake of leaving him alone again.

This time he had made it to one of the sitting chairs where he had collapsed, his face twisted in pain and clutching at the giant mottled bruise on his side. Joaquín had insisted that he was fine, but didn’t fight or struggle when the couple led him back to his bed. Because of this, they knew he still wasn’t feeling well. The man was putting on a brave face for them, but they weren’t fooled.

After a week passed, they finally deemed Joaquín better enough to be left on his own for short periods of time. He was moving around much better on his own, and all of his wounds had healed completely. The only thing that remained to be healed were the bruises. The large one on his side worried Manolo, since he himself had once had a similar bruise when he cracked a few ribs…though it was never that bad. And if Joaquín favored his other side, they didn’t say anything.

María was secretly pleased that the scars over the soldier’s body hadn’t disappeared.

Halfway through the second week, Joaquín had become overly jumpy. He blamed lack of sleep for being easily startled, that he was still having some pretty nasty nightmares. María wasn’t buying it, but she never said otherwise…she could tell that he still had dark circles under his eyes, but they weren’t nearly as bad as they had been over a week ago. For a little while, she was concerned that he was just pushing himself too hard too fast. He had already started to recondition his body, practicing every morning with basic drills to regain his strength and stamina.

Strange thing was he was only ever jumpy around Manolo.

She wasn’t blind. She could tell there was something going on there, but the pieces still weren’t connecting completely. Manolo, the goof, hadn’t even noticed his friend’s peculiar behavior. Probably because he had also been acting strangely as of late. María had been hoping he’d talk to her about it, but he was being stubborn again. Even when she asked about his memories, he’d give a vague answer and brush it off. If he kept it up for much longer, she would have to confront him about it.

But it would have to wait. After much protest, Joaquín appeared to be back to normal. The bruise on his side was still there, but the colors had faded to a sickly looking yellow/green. He was doing remarkably better considering that he had been dead not even three weeks ago. A few days ago he had felt well enough to run his cadets ragged, which told María that truly was feeling better.

After his training one day, María and Manolo had approached him about what K’tsal had told them. That he needed to complete some kind of test with a sword of some sort. Joaquín’s brows had knitted, but he agreed. There was something he wasn’t telling them…she just knew it. But once again, she let it slide. María hoped that her boys would feel comfortable telling her things, but the way things were going she might have to beat it out of them.

Which led them to now. María and Manolo stood at the edge of the bullring, waiting for K’tsal and Joaquín to join them. The warrior woman had suggested they do the test somewhere privately; and Manolo had offered up his home. The bullring was attached to his house and while not doing shows or practicing, was rather empty. They figured that it would be secluded enough to where they weren’t going to be bothered. It also helped that it was on fairly neutral ground for the both of them…since it sounded like there was going to be a fight involved.

The couple were talking quietly with themselves when in a flash of light, K’tsal appeared in front of them. Manolo jumped in his surprise, but María was more calm about the whole thing. She had, after all, seen her husband burst forth from the ground.

“I see he has not arrived yet…” K’tsal commented, reaching into her pouch and pulling out the cloth covered sword, and laying it gently down on the barrier. “I trust you’re all doing well?” Once the sword had been set down, she rummaged around in her pack and pulled out a piece of paper, handing it to María.

“We are, yes…and Joaquín seems to be in much better spirits.” She took the offered piece of paper, scanning over it. _Ah, the recipe she asked for_. Written in Spanish no less; K’tsal must have gotten her mate to help her with it. María was grateful for the woman when Joaquín had still been healing, considering neither she or Manolo were of any mind to worry about food. For a soldier, K’tsal was actually a very good cook. Now she could replicate what the warrior woman had made for them. “No, not yet.” María answered, looking over the hidden object. It still seemed to hold a glow, even through the cloth. “We never did get a chance to ask what you have planned…”

Manolo scooted closer to María, wrapping an arm loosely around her waist. His eyes were drawn to the sword, watching it almost suspiciously.

“It is simple really…the first part is either pass or fail.” She waved her hand towards the sword. “It will either choose him or not. If it does, then he must prove his worth of the weapon.”

Manolo glanced at K’tsal, “What do you mean by ‘if it chooses him’?”

K’tsal cocked her head to the side, appearing in thought. “Weapons from my homeland are special in that they choose their owner. Once a warrior has come of age, they are brought to the forge where the latest batch of weaponry is laid out. Typically, the chooser will feel a pulling towards a weapon. If a warrior does not feel the pull, it means their weapon has not been forged yet, and will have to wait for the next round.”

María thought on this. “How does that work? How do the weapon’s call out to their owner?” She idly placed her opposite hand over her husbands, brushing his knuckles with her fingertips.

The woman smiled, pleased with María’s questions. “Before the smith even creates a batch of weapons, the materials are gathered by all those coming of age. Each fledge is required to leave a blood print on the materials. The materials are then melted down using both natural and magical elements, and the smith enters a trance to make the weapons.” K’tsal brushed over the swathed bundle lying peacefully on the barrier. “Some weapons are made without a master in mind…they are typically used as spare or practice weapons.”

“So if he passes the first test…what happens then?” Manolo asked, genuinely curious about what was going to happen.

She shrugged, looking out into the ring. “He must prove he is worthy to use the sword…soul bounding is powerful magic, and it _needs_ to be sure.” Looking back at the couple, K’tsal sighed seeing that they weren’t satisfied with that answer. “All fledgling soldiers go through this test…they fight their superior officer in combat, and if they can prove themselves capable, they are allowed to start on missions. The test is simple…they either land a blow that draws blood, or they refuse to give up, no matter how beaten down they become.” K’tsal’s eyes drifted down towards the sword again, taking on a far away look.

“You won’t hurt him, will you?” María asked, concern leaking into her voice. She felt Manolo give her a gentle and reassuring squeeze. He must have felt the same creeping worry.

K’tsal let out another sigh, “I need you both to understand that this is a test, and that you cannot interfere.” Her ruby eyes landed on the couple, almost pleadingly. “I need you to promise that no matter what you see happen, you will not come to his aid.”

Manolo shifted his weight, and María knew that he wasn’t happy with that answer. “Are you going to hurt him?” He asked with a little more force.

The woman was silent for a moment or two. “No more than he would be in any other sparring match that is being ranked or judged.” K’tsal looked at them intently.

María patted Manolo’s hand, letting him know that the warrior woman would not go out of her way to harm Joaquín. “We won’t interfere with the fight.”

“María…” Manolo tried to argue.

“Husband, it will be fine. Trust her.” She spoke calmly. She could feel him tense up next to her, but she didn’t understand his hesitance. This woman had _brought Joaquín back to life for them_. María was certain that K’tsal would not try to kill him after that…especially with what she had seen in the woman’s body language that night.

Manolo made a sound in his throat, still not appearing completely convinced. He looked at María, and then back to K’tsal. He leaned down and whispered in María’s ear. “How can you be sure?”

Before María could answer, K’tsal chuckled. She must have heard him, but didn’t appear to be upset by it. “These do more than frame my face, you know.” She spoke teasingly, gesturing to her long, pointed ears.

Manolo had the decency to look embarrassed. But that didn’t stop what slipped out of his mouth next. “What are your intentions?”

K’tsal cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowing at him. “Pardon?”

“With Joaquín.” The guitarist elaborated.

“Manolo!” María hissed, elbowing him in the side. She was satisfied when she heard her husband grunt in pain. She wondered about him sometimes. He saw the same thing she did that night but his mind went in a completely different direction it seemed. And did she detect a hint of jealousy?

She made a low sound in her chest, a rumbling growl that both humans could feel. “Whatever intentions you think I have, boy, I assure you I do not.” Her ears twitched and raised her head as if trying to see something. “Let it be known that I already have a mate, and even if I didn’t, I’m not interesting in humans.”

“Then what is all this for?” The guitarist gestured with his free hand, since María was holding his other hand in place. “Why the interest in Joaquín?”

María had thought about stopping him again, but she also wanted to know the answer. Maybe after weeks of inquiry, they would finally have an answer.

The warrior woman’s shoulders seemed to sag, the muscles in her jaw jumping in her silence. “He bares a striking resemblance to someone I knew a long, long time ago.”

“You’ve told us that before, but what does that _mean_?” María asked, her voice sounding almost like a plea.

K’tsal opened her mouth but closed it soon after. With a heavy sigh, she dug around in her pack for a moment or two, before pulling out a clear, glass orb no bigger than the palm of her hand. “It might be easier to just show you…” The orb began to levitate above the woman’s hand and started to spin, color soon blossoming inside the object. K’tsal’s eyes took on a glassy appearance, glowing with a soft white light.

An image began to appear of a small boy. A shiver ran down the couple’s spines; it was like looking back in time to see Joaquín running through practice drills with a wooden sword. “I found him in a razed village…he was an unfortunate creation of the war, half bloods weren’t looked kindly upon.” The images changed slowly, showing a progression as the boy became older. The near mirror image of Joaquín eventually donned armor, switched out his wooden sword for a steel one, and a shield was eventually added. “I grew attached, impressed with his determination and bravery, and eventually accepted him as if he were mine own…”

The images changed then, no longer in what looked like a training field, but on an actual battlefield. The man in the images was shown fighting against another army, sometimes taking down several people at once with bright light flashes, pushing the enemy soldiers back and away. He was also seen running over to wounded allies, healing cuts and bruises with a simple touch of his hand. “I know there was a distinct possibility that he could die in battle, and he did…sacrificing himself to save our _entire encampment_.” The images started to fade, the last one that was clearly visible was the man looking directly at them and giving a bright, but cocky smile that was eerily familiar.

K’tsal’s eyes started to return to normal, the orb finally slowing its spinning and dropping into her palm. She grasped onto it tightly. “When I cam here and saw your friend…” K’tsal became quiet, and shook her head, almost as if ridding herself of memories and thoughts. “He looks so similar to Irek, I thought I had been seeing things…except it was more than that.” She halted again, taking a deep breath as if to calm herself, “I couldn’t save mine then…but if there was a chance I could save yours, save _him_ , I would do so in a heartbeat.”

She didn’t give either of them a chance to comment before her ear twitched again and she hummed in her throat. Her eyes flicked down to Manolo’s, getting his attention. “Take a deep breath.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, before a sudden wave of _wrongness_ slammed into him. He gasped, taking a deep breath out of necessity for fear his chest would be crushed from the feeling. In front of him, K’tsal’s natural form melted into her human disguise, and being so close was nearly suffocating.

María had to support her husband, since he had started to slump against her. She turned fearful eyes to K’tsal, but the woman was already reaching towards Manolo, before planting her thumb in the middle of his forehead.

He gasped again, this time straightening his posture, but his breathing was still labored. Manolo placed his free hand on his chest, pressing against it to ease the terrible pressure that had formed there. His eyes snapped to K’tsal, and he swallowed with some difficulty. Then his eyes widened, before looking confused. “What happened? I…can see you normally now.”

María looked between the two, clutching at her husband’s arm that was still around her waist. She could feel the trembling running through his body. She shifted her weight, trying to reposition Manolo’s weight against her side.

“Ah, good…it’s working then.” K’tsal said, watching the guitarist closely. “I temporarily gave you full sight…you’ll be able to see me as I am, and you will not feel uncomfortable, however it might take a minute or two to fully sink in.”

María looked at the taller woman in confusion. “Why is this necessary, we already know what you look like?”

K’tsal was quiet a moment, “Because your friend has not seen me like you have…I would not want to startle him and contaminate the test.”

Manolo opened his mouth, but was halted when K’tsal held up a hand to silence him. A handful of seconds later, the sound of heavy footfalls echoed down the hallway leading to the ring.

Joaquín jogged into view, looking at his two friends and then at K’tsal. “I’m not late, am I?”

The woman gave him a warm smile, “Not at all, youngling. Come.” She waved him over to where the sword was still resting on the barrier, cloaked.

María watched as the soldier’s gaze dropped to the bundle, and his hand twitched at his side. It was almost like it was anticipating picking something up.

His eye shot back to K’tsal, and it took on a wary glint. “What is that?”

“Patience…” The woman scolded gently, picking up the sword and delicately unwrapping it, revealing the cool metal. The sword seemed to glow in the evening light, but three of the four already knew that it was producing it’s own light. She set the sword down gently again on the barrier, keeping the blanket under the weapon.

Joaquín reached for the weapon, but had his hand slapped away.

K’tsal gave him a warning look. “Your first test is to see if you can even pick up the sword.” She motioned to the weapon in front of her. “If you can do that, then we’ll move on to the next test.”

Joaquín snorted, giving the woman a disbelieving look. “Are you serious? How hard is it to pick up a sword?”

The warrior woman’s eyes flashed, and she reached behind her back and unsheathed one of her daggers, laying in on the barrier next to the sword. K’tsal then waved her hand from Joaquín to the dagger, before crossing her arms. “Pick that up, then.”

Joaquín rolled his eyes, still not comprehending the lesson being taught. He reached for the dagger, but couldn’t get his fingers under the weapon for some reason. Shrugging it off, he gripped it on the sides with his fingers, and tried to lift it up.

It didn’t even budge.

“What?” Joaquín grunted, pulling with more force at the dagger. He then tried with two hands, but couldn’t even manage to make the thing shift. It was like it was rooted to its place. “What the hell…”

Manolo and María looked at each other. Could it be a trick? Manolo stepped forward and tried the same thing, with the same results. Both men looked at K’tsal curiously, and she had the biggest grin on her face. “How is that possible?” Manolo asked, pointing down to the dagger.

“This was the point I was trying to prove…” She then picked up the dagger easily and twirled it around in her hand. “The weapon must _choose_ you…If it is not tied to you somehow, then you have no chance of picking it up. However…” She stopped playing with the dagger and held it out to Manolo. When he didn’t respond at first, she held it out closer to him and gave him a nod.

With slight hesitation, his hand closed around the daggers handle and when K’tsal’s hand dropped away, the weapon didn’t plummet to the ground. The guitarist knitted his brows, looking at the dagger with curiosity. He turned it over a few times before handing it back to the woman, a question in his eyes.

K’tsal easily took the blade back and re-sheathed it. “If the weapon is handed over to another, with it’s owner’s permission, it’s just like any ordinary weapon.”

“And if you try and take it by force?” Joaquín asked, though it had seemed like he had already figured out what was happening.

“That depends on the weapon, but it isn’t pleasant.” The warrior woman said with a shrug.

María’s eyebrows nearly shot to her hairline. “That’s why you didn’t want me touching your blades that day!” So it wasn’t because K’tsal was possessive of her weapons, it’s because she didn’t want María getting hurt. Something told her that if she had managed to grab one of the daggers, she would have gotten a very nasty shock. Confusion then clouded her features. “Wait…so if that’s true, then how are you able to pick up the sword?”

K’tsal gave María a pleased look, “I was right when I said that nothing escapes you, _tal nae_.” The woman reached out and gripped the sword, flipping it over to it’s opposite side, pointing out a mark near the cross guard. “I have special permission…these are blood runes allowing me to pick the sword up and carry it around, but nothing more than that.” She then turned the weapon back over and set it down.

Joaquín looked at his friends first, then turned his attention back to the sword. He straightened his shoulders and walked over to the blade, only hesitating slightly when he reached for the sword. The soldier wore a look of intense concentration while he wrapped his hand around the grip, and lifted the sword.

* * *

He had felt drawn to the object before he knew it had even existed. And in an instant, he knew where he had seen the sword before: on Irek’s hip. It was almost like the sword was calling to him, beckoning him closer. When he went to reach for the sword, his heart started to race in anticipation.

When his fingers curled around the grip, it felt like the weapon had been made for him; it felt _right_. He didn’t get a chance to celebrate, however. Just as he had lifted the sword off the barrier, he felt a burning pain on his skin, directly over his heart. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could hear the terrible scream of something dying, the sound loud and echoing in his head. Joaquín nearly dropped the blade, but his hand tightened around the grip and held it firm.

A moment passed and the burning subsided, but the area still tingled with pain. He hadn’t noticed that he had closed his eye, and when he looked around he saw three pairs staring at him in concern. “I’m…I’m alright…I’m good.” He idly rubbed at the spot under his bandoleer, looking off to the side in thought. The soldier yelped when he felt the sword give a violent vibration, and he looked down at it in bewilderment.

The sword started to shimmer, glowing brightly enough to obscure the body of the blade. He had to look away to avoid blinding himself. When the light had died down to it’s normal glow, Joaquín was surprised to see a sword very similar to the one he still had. The only thing that was different, other than the glow, was the round emblem embedded in the hilt on the cross guard. It was a gleaming gold, with the image of a dragon on it.

He looked up at K’tsal with questioning eyes, but her face was carefully set.

After a moment, she made a sound in her throat, “Congratulations, you’ve passed the first test.” She looked briefly at Manolo and María, and then back at Joaquín. “Now prove to me you’re worthy of it.”

“Huh?” He looked at the warrior woman, a small knot of anxiousness forming in his gut. “What, uh, do you mean?”

Her smile was toothy and challenging. “Prove to me you can wield that sword in one on one combat.” She placed her hands on her hips, watching the soldier carefully. “You make the stipulations of the duel, and then we will begin. Think carefully about what you say, fledge.”

Something in the back of his mind told him this was another test. He ran through his mind everything he had learned about ranked sparring matches. Joaquín’s eye jumped from the sword to K’tsal, and narrowed his eye. “You can only use a sword…” he said slowly, remembering that the woman said she wasn’t much for sword fighting. “And…none of that martial arts stuff you used with María.”

“Fair enough.” K’tsal said airily, “Anything else?”

“Uhm…” he faltered, not sure what else to say.

“How about a few of my own then, hm?” K’tsal asked picking idly at her shirt. “In order to win, you must draw blood from me, but it must be using _that_ blade.” She pointed at the sword in Joaquín’s hand. “None of your other weapons are allowed.”

“Ok…” Joaquín spoke slowly, eying the woman in front of him. “Ok, well…where am I supposed to be aiming for? I’d rather not aim for your neck…” He trailed off, not sure how to phrase what he meant. He didn’t want to busy himself with trying to only aim for her hands or her head and neck. Those were not easy places to aim for, plus having an opening for one of them was slim to none.

“Of course, how absentminded of me…” K’tsal then grabbed the lower part of her tunic and lifted it up and over her head, exposing more skin that was covered in a patchwork of scars. She hadn’t worn her leather vest, leaving her with a strip of material around her middle chest for decency. “This should be enough of a target for you.” She then loosely folded her tunic and shoved it in the pack at her hip. She waved to the middle of the bullring. “After you.”

Joaquín coughed, trying to hide his slight embarrassment. That was a lot of skin…and he tried to look anywhere but at her. The scars didn’t go unnoticed, but that didn’t make him feel any more comfortable. _Careful, he didn’t want to get in trouble with K’tsal like he had with María in the past_ …He would just…act professional about it. She was a soldier like himself after all.

He made his way to the center of the ring, feeling just a little out of his element…this was Manolo’s domain after all. Joaquín turned around to see K’tsal walking slowly towards him, she had a sword already in hand, and he had no clue where she had gotten it from.

But he felt a shiver run down his spine when he saw how easily she swung it around, and twirled it in her hand. _Hadn’t she said that she didn’t like using swords?_

“Don’t look so surprised, fledge…a soldier in my army was required to learn how to fight with anything.” She started to circle him, rolling her shoulders and her back, and he had to keep himself at flinching at the cracking sounds coming from her joints.

Joaquín had to keep moving around to keep her in his sights. He dropped into a stance, getting ready for when she eventually struck. His muscles were curling in anticipation, caused by the way she was moving around him like a predator stalks it’s prey. If he didn’t know any better, he would say she was emitting a low purring growl…but that was impossible. A memory of red eyes, sharp teeth and claws popped into the back of his mind. Had it really been a nightmare? The soldier was beginning to wonder.

Had he not seen the flash of the blade, he would have missed her assault, being in thought as he was. He only brought his new sword up in time to block, and he was knocked several steps back. Joaquín hadn’t even corrected his footing before she was on him again, striking for all the world like she was actually trying to kill him. 

K’tsal pushed him back again, and he faltered this time, and she took full advantage of it. She struck at him, forcing him to block and he mis-stepped, throwing off his balance enough that she was able to sweep his feet out from under him with the flat of her sword. He landed on his back with a _thud_ , the air rushing out of his lungs.

K’tsal just _hmphed_ , and twirled her sword around her hand in a taunt. “Is that all you’ve got?” Her grin was snobbish, looking down at the prone soldier with disinterest.

Joaquín was on his feet instantly, lunging at the warrior woman. He got a few good blows in, but she easily matched him and didn’t give him any openings. After a few minutes, he saw what looked like an opening and took it, only to realize too late he’d been drawn into a trap. The punch to his jaw and then a kick to his stomach had him reeling back to land on the ground again. He tried to roll over, but he felt a boot connect with his shoulder, causing him to sprawl out onto is belly.

“Get up.” Her voice was harsh, and it was obviously an order, not a taunt.

It was the gruffness that got him moving, but he didn’t get very far. Just as he had gotten onto his elbows and knees, he was kicked again, this time in the gut, and he flopped over onto his back with a pained grunt. He gasped for air as his side started to burn. He hid it from María and Manolo well enough, but being kicked…his side wasn’t completely healed, and being jostled still caused it to hurt like hell. Joaquín grit his teeth, trying to block out the pain.

“I said _get up_.” This time it sounded like more of a snarl.

As he stood up, the sword in his hand grew a little brighter, and suddenly the pain in his side had become nearly completely numbed out. He didn’t understand, but he would take what he could get. He tightened his grip on his sword, rolling his shoulders to try and ease out the tenseness. When he saw that K’tsal was watching him, her eyes locked on his movements, he knew that this wasn’t going to be a fight that was easily won.

He wasn’t even sure if he _could_ win at this point.

She moved faster than any opponent he had ever faced off before…almost like lightning. Her strikes were calculated and well placed, and he briefly wondered how long she had been training soldiers. Because this isn’t like any sparring match he’d ever participated in before; this felt almost like a final exam for something…and he had the strangest sensation that it was familiar. 

Normally he would have at least a little concentration left over for verbal sparring, but his entire focus was trying to not be beaten back…which he was failing miserably at. What he needed to do was calm himself down, he was letting her verbal barbs get to him, and he couldn’t let that happen. He understood why she was doing it, and hated that it was working.

“Your footwork is a joke. Who taught you to fight?” She turned her back on him, taking a few steps away from him. K’tsal looked over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “You’re pathetic.”

Joaquín grit his teeth, slamming his fist against the dirt of the ring. He shot up from the ground, taking a broad swing at the woman, but she easily dodged out of the way of his blade. But he kept after her, and was starting to become frustrated. She wasn’t even fighting back now, simply moving out of his range, and he soon realized that she was trying to disorient him. That mistake cost him another punch to the mouth. He growled and spat out the blood that had leaked into his mouth.

Something crossed her features and she cocked her head to the side. The next blow he tried to land she easily blocked, locking their swords together. He tried to press her, but he found that he wasn’t getting anywhere. The woman was deceptively strong, and as he tried to press her harder, the only thing he got for his trouble were shaking muscles.

K’tsal seemed to get bored with his show of strength, and easily pushed him back, causing him to stumble. She cocked her head to the other side, watching him closely. A grin slowly crept across her face, and she got back into a fighting stance. “C’mon, fledge, I know you can do better than that.” The warrior woman lightly tapped the end of her sword with his in challenge. “Dance with me.”

_That was a strange turn of phrase_ …Joaquín thought as he stabilized his footing. He didn’t know what she was getting at, or if it was a trick, but she hadn’t moved yet. Thinking that she was actually being somewhat serious, he only took a semi-fighting stance. It’s not like he was winning anything so far, she had proven that she was far more advanced that he could have thought possible. Maybe this was K’tsal trying to get him to stop thinking strictly in terms of sword fighting.

He watched her carefully, his own sword tapping hers in return. One of the biggest things that was throwing him off, other than the way she handled a sword - which he had to admit he didn’t expect - was that she was fighting left handed. Joaquín had fought mainly against right handed people, and on occasion, those who duel fought…but he had never run across someone who only used a sword with their left hand. He was still trying to understand how to get around that fact when K’tsal started to circle around him again.

This time, however, he moved in tandem to her, rather than staying rooted to his spot. He matched every one of her steps, following her lead, and when she moved to strike, he knew it was coming this time. The two exchanged blows, each strike being matched and returned. Joaquín stopped thinking about where his feet _should_ be going, and just did what felt natural. It soon became apparent that his movements were more fluid, and his strikes began forcing her to defend her right side more. The soldier was watching for anything that could be considered a weakness, but still couldn’t find anything. It didn’t help that she constantly kept him moving his head, darting into his blind spot on purpose.

The two fought in their dance of death for a few minutes, before K’tsal changed her tactics once again. Joaquín couldn’t switch gears fast enough, and he found himself being beaten back and forced to move backwards at a fast pace. She didn’t give him an opening or opportunity to dodge out of the way, her blows being quick and successive. He knew that he was going to go down; it was just a matter of time.

And really, he should have seen it coming.

She stepped forward, forcing him to move back once again, and her sword shot out in an arc towards his face. He only just moved his head out of the way to avoid getting cut, and he watched the blade come centimeters from his face. Joaquín heard a quiet pop, and a tension ease around his head. The soldier realized too late what had just happened, and he nearly panicked; the only thought running through his head was, _please don’t let them see_ …

Joaquín didn’t have the time to worry about his eye patch fluttering to the ground, too busy worrying about the mad woman in front of him. He blinked, his damaged eye feeling gritty and dry all of a sudden. _Strange, he had never been able to feel anything before_ …As he threw up his sword to block K’tsal’s, a hazy image started to form, becoming clearer with every blink. The two had locked swords again, and the woman was pressing down on him with a force that made his muscles shake and scream in protest. Another second later, his vision became doubled, almost like he was seeing two different half images of the same thing. One was normal, the other…

He yelped, managing to force the woman’s strength down and away from him, giving Joaquín the chance to get around and away from her. He watched her stumble forward, but she easily caught herself and turned her attention back on him. He raised his sword to her, but it was shaky. _What the hell was he looking at_? _What the hell_ was _she?_

Half the image he was getting was what he had come to know what the woman looked like…the other half was something else entirely. Her facial features hadn’t changed, but he could see a cat-like ruby eye, a long ear, and purple-ish colored hair on one half. Where the images converged was blurry, but it wasn’t nearly as distracting as seeing two different halves of K’tsal. His eyes widened when he realized that he was seeing the image with his bad eye.

She seemed undaunted by his gaping and newly exposed eye. K’tsal cocked an eyebrow, a smirk twisting her lips. The woman showed off, twirling the sword as easily as she had her dagger. “Focus, fledge.”

He thought he was seeing things when thin tendrils of purple electricity ran down the body of the blade.

Pushing his thoughts aside, he readied himself for the next wave. His body was starting to protest the exertion, his side aching and muscles making their displeasure known. Joaquín quickly reached up and rubbed the sweat from his brow, nearly cringing at the gritty feeling from sand and dust sticking to him. He couldn’t help the trill of irritation from knowing that K’tsal hadn’t even broken a sweat yet. The soldier just needed one good opening, all of this would end if he could just get one strategically placed nick in. Something pulled at his mind, but it didn’t feel like that _thing_ that was in his head for weeks.

_There’s a scar in her right brow, aim there_. It’s tone was familiar, and he had the strange feeling that he could trust it.

Joaquín rolled his shoulders, and took up his stance again. The sword in his hand began to hum, it’s glow seeming brighter now. He was still baffled how the blade felt like it belonged to him, but the familiarity and comfort would work to his advantage…it’s almost like the blade knew what he was trying to do, and agreed completely. _Alright, time to get serious_ …

Instead of waiting for K’tsal to make the first move, Joaquín launched himself at the woman, forcing her on the defensive. If she could use punches and kicks, then he could too, and he was going to use that to his advantage. If he could distract her, then he might get that opening he’d been looking for. She blocked every one of his blows, and the force of some of them made his muscles shake. The soldier finally got an opportunity to get a punch in, and after making her block with her sword, his fist darted out and he landed a blow to her nose. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough of a distraction and in retaliation, she grabbed his bandoleers and threw him to the side. He landed hard, skidding across the ground a short distance.

As he got up, he groaned. He knew that exhaustion wasn’t too far off, so he had to get that strike in soon. When he made it to his feet, he stumbled slightly, but quickly righted his balance. Joaquín’s breathing was heavy, and the ache in his side only increased.

Not far from him, K’tsal reached up and wiped away the trickle of blood that had started leaking from her nose. Seeing the shiny redness on her fingertips, she gave a feral grin, her eyes flashing with something he couldn’t discern. However, she seemed to look pleased that he had drawn blood.

“Not bad, but your blade is still clean.” She pointed her own blade at his. “Try again.”

He knew that he would only get once shot at this, so he didn’t hesitate to go on the offensive again. His body could only take so much abuse, and his stamina was waning. Joaquín knew he needed to be smart about it, and knew that she wouldn’t easily be fooled by feigns. So that left him with very few options, but one seemed to stick out in his mind, and instantly, he knew that was the one to go with.

The next time their swords met, he knew he hadn’t been seeing things when her sword sparked, purple lightning running along the blade. He also wasn’t surprised when his own blade gave a flash of light in answer, choosing to ignore it for the moment. He continued to force her to block, turning her in a circle, and the next time she took a step, he purposefully opened himself in a way that looked like a mistake. K’tsal took the bait and went to strike at his now open left side. Instead of trying to block, he launched himself away from the blade, his own shooting up in a quick arc.

He nearly shouted in victory when he felt the resistance of skin at the tip of his blade, but a powerful wind gust sent him flying across the ring. He landed hard, rag-dolling for several feet before he finally came to a stop. Joaquín groaned, not even bothering to try and get up; he knew he would be unsuccessful if he tried. Instead, he lifted his head in search for the woman. He was temporarily concerned with how far away he had been tossed, nearly to the other end of the arena.

K’tsal stood, staring in his direction with wide eyes. Her sword had drooped, her arm hanging almost loosely at her side. Her free hand reached up to her brow, and gently poked at the now split skin. A sort of watery chuckle bubbled from her, and she opened the pouch at her hip and dropped the sword inside, the blade disappearing into its depths. She walked over to him, covering the distance quickly with long strides. She offered him a hand which he gratefully took, and she easily hauled him to his feet. “Very impressive, soldier. There’s only ever been one other to do that.”

He swayed a little once on his feet, his sword arm hanging loosely at his side, but he still held his sword in a death grip. “That’s, uh, nice to know.” He took a step forward and nearly tripped over nothing. Joaquín cursed under his breath, knowing that his friends were watching his every move. “Um…who was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

K’tsal made a soft thoughtful noise, busying herself with taking Joaquín’s hand already in her own and looping it over her shoulder. She then wrapped her other around his waist, supporting nearly all of his weight. She urged him to walk forward, and they slowly made their way over to Manolo and María. “I suppose not…it was a young man from my homeland named Irek. No one before, or since, has ever been able to complete the challenge by drawing blood. Until you, at least.” She spoke gently, almost reverently, about his counterpart.

Joaquín wasn’t sure if he should feel proud of his accomplishment or not. He didn’t get the idea himself, but he did manage to pull it off. And the more he thought about it, the more he knew that it was Irek that gave him the information. The soldier hesitated, but he found his curiosity got the better of him. “Um…I don’t mean to sound rude…but what are you?”

Her ear twitched in his direction, but she never looked at him. Instead, she became contemplative. “You can see past the glimmer?”

“Maybe? Half of you looks normal, the other half is…different.” He tried to explain, but it wasn’t sounding right. A thought hit him, and he maneuvered his sword in front of him, using the reflection from the blade to look at his damaged eye. While it wasn’t as good as a mirror, he could see enough; his eye was nearly completely white, but his entire eye was there. 

He cursed softly under his breath. He had remembered there being very little of his eye left. Before today, he hadn’t even been able to open the lid since…waking up. He decided to worry about it later, instead reaching behind him and slipping the weapon into his spare sheath.

K’tsal hummed, “My kind have many names, but I think the accepted word in this world is dragon.” She was quiet for a beat, “It looks fine, don’t worry about it.”

“D-dragon?” Joaquín stammered, turning his head to look more closely at K’tsal. “Wait, if you’re a dragon shouldn’t you be, you know…covered in scales? And breathing - ”

“Fledge, if you say fire, _I will throw you across the arena_.”

He snapped his mouth shut, daring not to continue. “Yes, Ma’am.”

She hummed, that sound appreciative that he didn’t say any more. Her features softened slightly, “You really did do well, you know.”

The soldier chuckled a little awkwardly, “You went easy on me, didn’t you, because you knew I was still injured.”

“No. I pushed you as much as I thought you could handle. Turns out I needed to adjust to make it harder.” K’tsal shifted her weight to get a better grip on Joaquín.

The sound of running feet pulled both their attention, seeing María making a beeline for them, Manolo not far behind her. She didn’t even hesitate to take his face in her hands to look him over. “Are you alright? It looked like you took that last hit pretty hard…” María brushed her thumb over his cheek, the flesh red and slightly swollen.

K’tsal easily passed Joaquín over to Manolo, stepping back to give the three their space. The soldier slumped against the shorter man, but Manolo didn’t seem to mind.

K’tsal called the three’s attention, “Now that the test is over, I must take my leave of you all. It has been a pleasure.” She bowed to the three, reaching into her pack and pulling out a small dark green stone.

Joaquín noticed that it was shimmering strangely, and seemed to put off a wafting glow.

“Does this mean he passed?” María asked, keeping one hand on Joaquín’s cheek, but turning towards the woman.

“Aye, he did.” She nodded, a smile pulling at her lips. “He should be very proud with his accomplishment. It’s not often a human bests a dragon.” K’tsal was looking directly at Joaquín then, making sure that he could hear the honesty in her voice…but there was something else there that he couldn’t place as well. The woman then looked at the three of them, “If you ever require my assistant for anything, do not hesitate to ask. And you are welcome at my castle whenever it pleases you…as long as you don’t mind the residents.”

“Residents?” Manolo asked, almost hesitantly.

K’tsal rolled her shoulder in a shrug. “It is not a place many humans have been to…at least in the last several hundred years or so. Nonetheless, you are welcome to come and visit.”

María wore a small telling smirk that had the soldier thinking that she already had plans to visit the woman. The smirk melted into a genuine smile of gratitude. “Thank you, for everything…” María spoke, and Joaquín got the feeling that he was missing something.

They still hadn’t told him everything that happened that night.

K’tsal waved off María’s thanks, her smile turning warm, “Take care of yourselves, and each other, younglings.” The woman then gripped the stone in her hand, and her body became enveloped in light. When the light faded, she was gone.

Once she was sure K’tsal was gone, María returned to checking over Joaquín’s face, looking for anything more than mild injuries. When she looked him in the eye, her own flicking over to his bad one briefly, and he went rigid in realization. 

He quickly covered that side of his face with a hand, obscuring his bad eye from his friend’s view, cursing under his breath, “I-I’m sorry…I didn’t mean…I’m sorry you had to see that…” Joaquín stuttered, fumbling over his apology.

Joaquín was hoping that María wouldn’t question him hiding his eye, but he wasn’t so lucky. María cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly not bothered, but he avoided her gaze. He heard her sigh, and she placed her hand over his, gripping it gently before pulling it down and away from his face.

The soldier immediately closed his eyes, not wanting her to see whatever horror had been lying behind his lid all this time. It was a poor attempt to try and protect them, but he felt it necessary to at least try and put of a fight…even if he knew he was going to lose.

“Joaquín…look at me.” Her voice was gentle, but her tone left no room for argument.

With a heavy sigh, he opened his eyes. He noticed right away that he only had his normal singular vision, and he could see nothing from his damaged eye. Joaquín thought for a moment that he had dreamed being able to see anything out of his left eye. The soldier still avoided her gaze, however.

María brushed her fingertips over his cheek, just below his bad eye, the touch drawing his attention and causing him to look at her. She was studying his face, but she didn’t seem disgusted or horrified like he thought she would. In fact, he couldn’t see anything negative in her features at all. Her fingers left his cheek, only to brush against the brow over his bad eye and then down his face. He internally cursed himself when his eyelids fluttered at her touch. “It’s not too bad.”

Manolo leaned over into his line of sight, his arm at Joaquín’s waist tightening it’s grip slightly. “She’s right. It doesn’t look bad at all. But if you’re worried about it…” The guitarist reached into his pocket, showing the soldier his eye patch that he had lost during the match. “K’tsal slipped it to me when she handed you over.”

He blinked down at the strip of leather, his brain trying to understand how it could have been in once piece. Joaquín felt it snap against his head, the leather cut by her sword. He mentally shook himself, deciding that it wasn’t important enough to worry about. “That, uh…would be great.” He tried to take a step out of Manolo’s grasp, but his knee nearly buckled under him, causing the guitarist to hold him tighter. Joaquín chuckled awkwardly, “Maybe I should go home and pass out…you know, since I apparently can’t walk right now.”

He missed the shared glance between Manolo and María. Manolo spoke, pulling the soldier closer and grabbed the man’s hand that was slung over his shoulder. “Why don’t you stay here for a while…regain your strength before you go out patrolling the town.”

María hummed in agreement. “That’s a wonderful idea, husband.” She looked back at the soldier. “We can clean up your wounds, and I can make us dinner…” She moved to Joaquín’s side opposite Manolo, stepping in close and wrapping her arm around the soldier’s waist as well. “You can regale us with stories of your heroic adventures.” She laughed quietly when Manolo snorted.

Joaquín rolled his eyes, allowing himself to be guided into the Sánchez home. “Why María, I didn’t know you were so interested in my tales,” He said playfully, hesitantly draping his other arm over her shoulders. His heart flip-flopped in his chest when she grabbed his hand, much the same way it had when Manolo had done the same not a few minutes earlier. _What is that about?_ “I would also love to hear more about your time in Europe, knowing how much trouble you probably got into…and you as well, Manolo. I know you didn’t spend all your time training.”

“Of course, brother.” Manolo said with a smile, his grip tightening on Joaquín’s hand.

“Well, you don’t get that many medals for doing nothing, soldier.” María teased, reaching over and playfully flicking at one. “I want to hear _all_ your stories, Joaquín. Not just the funny or silly ones.”

He was quiet for a moment, knowing that María wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d told them _everything_. Joaquín gave in before he even answered, “Only if you two do the same.”

“It’s a deal.” María said, leaning in closer to the soldier. On the other side of her, Manolo hummed his agreement.

Joaquín felt the warmth from both his friends through his jacket, and it was a comfort. Having them near gave him strength, and pretty soon he was moving nearly completely under his own power, but never once did his friends let go of him. When they led him into the house, they sat him down on the couch, María going into the kitchen to get dinner started and Manol grabbing the medical supplies to take care of the soldier.

The night seemed to pass by quickly, filled with laughter and cheer. They sat together and told stories long into the night, and every time Joaquín mentioned something about leaving because of the late hour, the other two nearly begged for another story, which led to another, and another. Eventually, even with their puppy eyes and pleading, Joaquín excused himself. While he appreciated the gesture of them offering him to stay, he would rather sleep at home. It had _nothing_ to do with the awkwardness he felt at the thought of staying with the married couple…at least that’s what he tried to convince himself.

And as he walked home, the night quiet and town peaceful, he knew everything was going to be alright.

* * *

It was long after Joaquín had left the Sánchez home, and long after the couple had gone to sleep. The home was silent save for Chuy’s gentle snoring at the foot of María and Manolo’s bed.

But not everything was calm.

Manolo’s sleep was restless, the normally heavy sleeper tossing and turning. His unsound rest went unnoticed by the other two in the bed, and he once again turned onto is back. His brow was drawn and sweat beaded on his forehead. He had moved around so much that the blankets had been pushed down to his hips.

Then his body gave a sudden jerk, and sat up quickly, his breaths coming in hard pants. Manolo’s eyes darted around the dark room, his brain taking several moments to realize where he was. His head dropped into his hands as he tried to calm his raged breathing and racing heartbeat. A few minutes passed and he eventually calmed down, running a hand through sweat dampened hair.

It had been weeks since he’d had a nightmare like that.

The guitarist turned his attention to María, who was still sleeping soundly next to him. Chuy was still at the foot of the bed, and the pig turned over in his sleep, a soft grunt escaping him. He was grateful that he hadn’t woken either of them up with his movement. Looking outside, he could tell that it was close to dawn, but it would still be an hour or so before the sun was up. He figured he should try and go back to sleep.

Before he could, however, his eyes glazed over and his features went slack, his mind showing him another vision. When he finally snapped out of it, his eyes widened, and he slapped a hand over his mouth – both to silence the sound that bubbled in his throat and to try and stop the sensation tingling across his lips. He could feel his face burning, and he was even more grateful that María was still asleep. He wasn’t sure he knew how to explain what he saw to her.

Hell, he couldn’t even explain it _himself_.

This was something he would have to keep quiet about, maybe even wait it out. He didn’t want to talk about it until he could fully process it…if he ever _did_.

Manolo flopped back, not even bothering to pull the covers up…he didn’t think he would need them now, considering how warm he was feeling. He stared at the ceiling for a long time, before finally closing his eyes. He rubbed his face for good measure, the warmth in his cheeks still not fading. With a quiet sigh, he tried to calm the chaos in his mind, but he just kept running over what his vision had just shown him.

He knew sleep would not come to him now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I just want to say thank you for everyone who's stopped by and read Whispering Sands, left a comment or kudos. It always puts a smile on my face when I get a notification. Hmm? What's that? Why, yes, that IS a cliffhanger at the end. This is not the end, dear friends...


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